Just Our Luck
by joesoap
Summary: Darry's struggling to cope with mounting bills, Soda's in trouble, and Pony's being led astray. Just when Darry thinks things can't get worse, something happens to transform the lives of the Curtis brothers. But will it drive them apart? Partly rewritten
1. work sucks

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Outsiders, nor much else.

Darry drew a hand over his forehead and felt a sheen of wetness across the back of his fingers. He reached for the bottle tucked in his shirt pocket and took several gulps of warm water. The roof tiles were scorching underneath his knees and it felt like the sun was baking him from the outside in. He peered over the edge of the three storey house and saw Pete, shirtless, his burly broad shoulders tanned and glistening in the heat, pouring a bottle of water over his chest before leaning against the truck. It sure was hot to be working.

He leaned back slightly against the roof to take a look at Tulsa stretched out below.

He'd promised Pony he'd try to stand and stare once in a while, even if it was difficult to see the point of it, and he guessed that sweating on a roof was as good a time as any.

Besides, the view from the roof was great. The house they'd been roofing for the last week was one of the grandest in this the soccest of soc neightbourhoods. It was set on a little hill in a group of other large houses, set off from the road. You could follow the highway as it skirted round the outside of the city, see the neat roofs of hundreds of houses stretched out – and then in the distance you could see the houses get less neat as the eastside took over. Except from here it was hard to see the scrubland, untended gardens or rusty cars.

He leaned his head back and drained the water bottle. In fact, it was probably just because he knew it was the east side that he saw those things in his mind's eye.

Darry glanced over the edge of the roof at the roomy back yard. More a garden really. All shrubs and flowers, and a basketball net hung up against the garage. He smiled wryly, remembering the newly broken lamp in their living room - the result of Soda and Steve's arm wrestling match getting a little out of hand this morning.

He frowned, feeling a little guilty. He guessed if you lived in a place like this, you could use up your energy shooting hoops rather than rough housing in the living room and getting yelled into the next state by your big brother. He guessed a lot of things would be different if you lived in a house like this.

"Hey kid – you gonna do some work or just dream the day away?"

Darry looked up sharply. "Didn't know you were back," he said mildly as Pete's head appeared above the guttering.

"Well I am – get your ass in gear would you? We're already behind and I need to finish this job."

Darry rolled his eyes and turned back to the 23-year-old who'd just been made supervisor. _Nothing to do with being the boss' cousin,_ _of course_, Darry thought bitterly.

He leaned out and pulled the roughing up onto the roof, handing the replacement Stanley knife up to Gerry behind him.

Pete pulled himself onto the roof. "Get a move on - we need more of this." He said roughly.

"Sure." Darry swung a leg over the edge of the roof onto the hot rungs of the ladder.

-----------------------------------------

Darry used his foot to kick open the screen on their front door, his hands heavy with SAVERMART bags of tinned food and toilet roll. He leaned back into the door, using his elbow to lever open the handle. The house was eerily quiet, its shabbiness more obvious when there weren't any teenagers about to liven it up. He walked through the living room to the kitchen and laid the bags on the counter.

He glanced at the clock, slightly annoyed. He'd asked Pony to start dinner tonight so he could get to the discount mart where they went when money was tight.

_I'll give him fifteen minutes_

He sighed and started putting away the groceries. It was going to have to be one of their "creative" dinners.. maybe he should get Soda to work some magic on beans and tomatoes.

_No – scrub that._ He grinned._ We'll end up with some inedible purple mess, with a heap of sugar added._

Darry glanced at the clock again and forced himself to make a coffee and sit down to open that week's bills. Lately he'd taken to leaving them in a pile on the counter rather than actually opening them – he was so damn tired.

A loud ringing jolted him awake. He jerked up in surprise, knocking a pile of bills off the table. He glanced at the clock - _wh__ere the hell ha__s Pony__ got to__ – _and strolled across the living room to pick up the phone.

"Hello? Can I speak to Darrell Curtis please?" An urgent voice of authority came on the line. Darry's heart sank.

_What now?_

Aloud, he replied, "Yeah, speaking."

"I'm calling from St Francis hospital. You're –" there was a pause on the end of the line, "Pony-boy Curtis' guardian?"

"What's happened?" Darry said, hearing his voice rise in panic.

"He was brought in this afternoon. He had an accident. Nothing too-"

Darry cut her off. "I'll be right there."

This is my first fan fiction. Please review if you wish. Will appreciate reviews good and bad, so long as they're honest.


	2. pain

DISCLAIMER: All S E Hinton's characters - as used and abused by me...

I've rewritten parts of the next three chapters thanks to some really good constructive feedback i got - thanks for all the reviews, really helpful.

Ponyboy looked glumly at the light blue hospital curtain. It was stained in light circles towards the middle and in the bottom and the frayed edges flickered in the breeze made by people walking past in the outside corridor.

_Darry's__ going to kill me. _He thought, wincing as he forgot about his leg and tried to move it along the gurney a bit. _He's __gonna__ skin__ me. _

He tried moving his leg to the middle of the bed, but felt a sharp pain shoot through his thigh. He gave up and leaned back against the metal frame of the gurney. _On second thoughts bring it on – I can hardly feel any worse. _

He wondered how Curly was getting on with O'Toole. They were lucky it was O'Toole who came along and not one of those other cops – the mean ones who looked at you like scum if you had a bit of grease in your hair.

"Ponyboy Curtis?" Pony tried to wriggle down the bed a little as he heard steps in the hall.

_Please let it be Soda, please let it be Soda._

"Oh – hi Darry." His biggest brother appeared at the curtain behind the annoyed looking blond haired nurse who'd been looking after him, in the same make-a-wrong-move-and-I'll-call-security kind of way all afternoon. Darry's face was etched with concern. His blue eyes flicked down to Pony's plaster casted leg.

"Pony, you okay?" he said softly, automatically putting out his hand to touch his brother's leg.

Pony looked shiftily at the ground. "Yeah, sure Darry. I'm fine."

"What happened?" Darry asked, turning to the nurse. "Is he okay?"

The nurse hovered at the foot of the bed, picked up the chart and pretended to study it.

"He's fine. Six to eight weeks and the cast should come off. Try not to get it wet." She said in a flat tone, her eyes refusing to meet him.

_She thinks I'm a hood, _Darry thought, a flash of annoyance passing through him. He turned back to his brother, and repeated, "What happened?"

"Well – Curly and I –" Pony faltered as he saw his brother's shoulders stiffen. "Can we talk about this when we-"

"You this one's guardian?" O'Toole asked gruffly appearing suddenly at the curtain.

Darry raised his eyebrows at his youngest brother, "What's this all about?" he said, keeping his eyes on Pony.

"Can I talk to you outside for a moment?" Darry let his eyes linger on his younger brother a moment, before following the older man out of the cubicle. Pony tried to shuffle down a bit on the gurney.

_Where's Soda when you need him? _He thought, trying to wiggle his toes experimentally, and wincing.

_Six to eight weeks. I'll be lucky if I'm allowed out of the house to go to frigging school. _

"He what!" Pony jumped involuntarily as Darry's voice boomed across the corridor. He felt a burst of heat on his ears and cheeks, and heard O'Toole's muffled tones trying to calm his brother down. _Good luck with that, _he thought bitterly.

"You bet I will!" His brother's voice was a study in controlled anger.

Pony sat up and tried to swing his leg over the left side of the trolley. _Gawd__ do I need a cigarette._

Darry burst through the curtains, his eyebrows knitted together in fury. "Let's go." He said briefly.

Pony looked down and saw his brother clenching and unclenching his fists furiously. "I can't."

"Ponyboy Curtis, now is not the time to test me, you understand?" he dropped his left hand down heavily on the frame of the trolley.

Pony looked up, met his brother's face and shrugged defiantly. "I can't. I can't walk. I must need crutches or something."

Darry made a low growling noise in his throat but turned back out of the cubicle, returning a moment later with a pair of wooden crutches. He thrust them against the side of the bed.

"Right – get down. I'll grab you." He stood at the head of the gurney and grabbed Pony's shoulders hard from behind. Pony bit his lip and pulled himself off the bed and onto the crutches. Soda had had crutches once - two sets. He couldn't remember where he got them from, but he and Steve had spent the day hopping up and down their block, doing increasingly daredevil stunts until Soda fell on the bonnet of a car and Pony's mom had come out and ordered them inside.

It must have happened a year ago last spring. He shook his head quickly as if to erase the memory. It was too painful to think of that stuff yet.

Darry strode up to the reception desk so fast that Pony struggled to keep up. He waited by the chairs, wondering guiltily how much it cost to get your leg fixed. He'd sort of always wanted a broken leg, mostly for the crutches, until now, until he actually had one, and it hurt like hell. When he'd fallen from the roof he swore he could hear the bone crack. He shuddered.

Darry had a bundle of papers under one arm. He pushed the small of his brother's back. "Let's go."

* * *

Pony cheered as he saw the living room light on. _Maybe Soda's back. _And then saw Two-Bit sprawled on their sofa, an empty bottle of beer by his side, laughing at some loud tv quiz show. 

"Is Soda back?" Darry asked immediately.

"Hey there – it's the wounded soldier. You got crutches! Excellent. Want Two Bit to sign your cast?"

Pony gave Two Bit a half smile. "Sure."

Darry raised his eyebrow at his little brother. "Ponyboy. Kitchen. Now. " He watched as Pony turned a little pink around the cheeks, before scowling and swinging his crutches towards the kitchen.

Darry turned back to the sofa. "Two Bit – have you seen Soda?"

"Uh – no. He's not back yet. I haven't seen him all evening."

Darry laid his jacket on the armchair by the door and shrugged. "I tried him at DX station earlier. He sure didn't say anything about being home late. If you see him -" he said pointedly, "tell him to get his ass home."

Two Bit yawned and turned back to the TV. "Will do." He glanced up at Darry as he stood looking down at him. "Er, I thought I'd hang here for a bit though."

" 'Ain't you got a home to go to?"

"Sure - I just like hanging round here." He jerked his head at the kitchen. "I figure I'd just stay a while."

Darry frowned.

"Whatever."


	3. and consequences

**DISCLAIMER:I don't own The Outsiders, but am exploiting S E Hinton's characters to my own evil ends (evil laugh, har har.. ) Hmmm**

Darry pinched the bridge of his nose, took a deep breath, and exhaled deeply. He felt tense all over – and tired.

_It would help if Two-Bit didn't act like I was some kind of freaking monster, _he thought angrily. Frowning, he pushed open the kitchen door.

Pony was leaning on his crutches by the counter inside the doorway. Darry felt a tight feeling of anger building up in his stomach as he watched his little brother trace a crack in the laminate counter with his middle fingernail. _When did it get so that feeling was so much more familiar?_

He watched him for a moment. Sometimes silence was the best way to break Pony.

He'd managed to control himself on the way home from the hospital by keeping his hands on the steering wheel, mouth firmly shut. And even now he figured the only way to at least _try _to keep his no fighting promise to Soda was to count to ten. Again.

He closed the door with his foot, took a step back, reaching behind to catch the cooker in his hands before leaning back, his eyes not leaving his brother's face. Pony refused to look back.

He waited a moment, and then heard his voice, loud in the small kitchen. "What the hell happened?

Pony scowled, a strand of long hair falling across his eyes.

_He looks tired, and young, _Darry thought. A tight band of pain had started to throb across his forehead. _Actually scrub that. I'm tired - and young too. How did this become my responsibility again?_

Darry looked at his brother intently for about a minute and was about to open his mouth again, when Pony began to speak, in a low voice, his eyes not moving from the counter top.

"I didn't know what Curly was doing."

"Really." Darry replied, his voice laced with heavy sarcasm.

"He just – we were just – you know, hanging around, and sort of thought we'd try to get onto the roof."

Darry clenched and unclenched his fists behind his back, and felt his jaw tighten. "The roof of the grocery store. In the middle of the afternoon. In broad daylight."

Pony shifted uneasily. "It was just for a laugh, you know, to see if we could make it."

"Uh huh? And when Curly jumped into the yard – you didn't figure maybe this was a bit more serious than normal, huh?"

Pony leaned on his crutches and looked at his feet. Darry's voice was dangerously low, butgetting louder.

"Or maybe you knew there was beer down there huh?"

Pony squirmed. _Darry__ makes me sound like some half wit hood. _

"No- "

"But you just figured out you'd act as look-out anyway?"

The younger boy frowned, concentrating on his feet. _Well I was there by then anyway, wasn't I? I wasn't just about to run off like some scared kid. _But you couldn't say that to cool-headed Darry, he'd never get it.

Darry took a step across the kitchen and placed his hands, heavily, on his brother's shoulders. "What the hell were you thinking Ponyboy?" He resisted the urge to shake him. "I oughta skin you. You _want _to end up in some boys' home with Soda? Huh?" Pony tried to shrug his brother's hands off. "Not to mention you could have killed yourself jumping off that roof."

_Great set of priorities there Dar, _Pony thought, scowling at the counter.

"Well?" Darry stood back, his eyes boring into his brother.

He shrugged, and looked up. Darry put a hand slowly through his hair, turned, and walked slowly and deliberately back to the other end of the kitchen.

Ponywatched curiously as his brother frowned at the floor. He wasn't used to this cold, deadly Darry, battling to keep his temper.

Darry looked up. "Okay. Go to bed. You're grounded. You don't leave this house until I say so, you hear? That's no movies, no TV, no nothing." he said firmly, pausing on the last word. "And especially no hanging around with Curly."

Pony grunted in protest. "But Darry – "

"Pony I swear you're _this _close – don't test me."

Pony aimed the ball at a worn patch on the ceiling near the door and watched as it hit its target perfectly, knocking off a little plaster along the way, bouncing the short distance to the patch of wall above the door and back to his waiting hand. It had taken ages to work out all the angles – no mean feat when you had to drag a half dead, throbbing leg behind you, while you dug through the dubious contents of under-the-bed to retrieve your ball. Soda was evenmessier than he was.

_He'll sure be glad I found that other DX shirt though_, Pony reasoned, glancing at the garment, thick with dust, on the floor by his desk.

He tossed the ball in the air in preparation for another round, caught it, and threw it even harder against the ceiling.

_Maybe I can make it so it bounces against the dresser first and then -_

"Ponyboy Curtis, whatever you're doing - quit it!" He jumped as his eldest brother's voice bellowed from across the hallway.

He scowled. It was only half past ten. What was he meant to do? He'd read all his books and Darry wouldn't even let him sit in the living room to watch TV. He drew back his arm and threw the ball hardat the ceiling in defiance.

"Ponyboy! Don't make me come in there! You hear?"

He caught the ball and stuck out his tongue at the door.

He was just considering whether to make an all or nothing play across the hallway, with an attempt to swing an angle into the living room to really wind his eldest brother up, when he heard the screen door swing open.

"Where you been?" The walls of their house were paper thin.

"Out – jeeze Darry, don't have a cow. We met some girls at the DX. How's Pony?"

"Better than he should be – how'd you hear?"

"They were talking about it at the Dingo – so I came home."

"At the Dingo – and you didn't think to ring? Come on Soda you know the rules."

"Yeah, yeah. But he's okay?"

"Yes – he okay. " Darry lowered his tone. "They're not all talking about it are they? That's just what we need, for this to get back to social services –"

"They aren't, it hasn't." Soda interrupted quickly. "Relax – it's fine."

"I wish I could relax, little buddy. And, hey, enough of this yeah yeah business – you should phone, you know that."

"I know – sorry Darry. Look, I'm whacked – I'm going to bed, all right?"

Soda appeared in the doorway a second later, his blond hair flicked up messily at the front. He grinned at his younger brother, pulling the door shut behind him with his bare foot.

"Hey there, bootlegger. That's quite a cast you got there." He dropped onto the bed next to Pony and absent-mindedly rubbed his hand against the rough cast. "Darry give you a hard time?"

Pony shrugged. Soda's eyes were full of concern. "It was a stupid thing to do, you know?" he said quietly.

Pony shifted uncomfortably. Soda moved his face so his eyes could seek out his brother's. "But I'm guessing you know that, huh?"

The younger boy shrugged again.

Soda sighed. _Sometimes he gives about as much away as a brick wall. Can't say I didn't try._

He leaned over onto his side, his eyes roaming appraisingly over Pony's leg, and grinned. "It's looking a bit on the clean side though. "

Pony looked up and smiled back at him. "Darry wasn't exactly itching to be the first to sign it. You wanna be the first?"

Soda grinned even wider and pulled his shirt and t-shirt over his head. "Jeeze it's hot tonight."

He stepped, bare chested, over to the desk, and rummaged around, mumbling to himself. He moved over to the closet and bent down among the detritus in the bottom while Pony strained to lean over to try to see what he was doing.

He turned back to Pony, three pots of blue, red and yellow paint in his hands. "This oughta do it."

His little brother grinned. "I 'spect so."

Soda opened the first pot and leaned over his brother's leg, dipping a finger into the red paint. He narrowed his eyes experimentally and examined the cast, before forming a large S by his left knee cap.

Pony glanced down and groaned. "Soda, not so big. I've got to wear this thing you know?"

His brother leaned back on his heels, examining his work. "Everyone needs a bit of colour in their lives." Soda dipped his finger in the yellow paint, ready to fashion a large O beside the first letter.

Pony groaned again. "You're not the one who's got to wear it- Soda - go easy."

Soda grinned wickedly at him. "You want people to know I'm your brother don't you?"

Thanks for the reviews - lots of really helpful comments. More reviews always appreciated. Muchos Gracias.


	4. breakfast in bed?

**DISCLAIMER: SE Hinton's a great writer who created really compelling characters - I 'aint her.**

The room was orangey with the half light of dawn when Pony woke up to a throbbing ache in his leg. He looked down and groaned as he saw the white bedcovers stained in patches of red, yellow and blue.

_Darry's __gonna__ have a fit._

He moved Soda's arm off his chest and hauled himself up into a half sitting position before leaning back against the headboard.

Soda was lying facing him, taking deep peaceful breaths. He looked at his brother for a moment, thinking how Soda actually _did _sleep like a baby. His face sort of softened when he slept, making him look much younger than sixteen, and he flung his arms across the bed, so that nine times out of ten, his left one ended up across Pony's chest leaving his right one to sort of hang down over his edge of the bed.

He stomach felt empty, full of air, and he remembered how Darry had sent him to bed with no dinner.

_Like I'm ten or something. _His stomach gurgled loudly. _That's practically child abuse, _he grinned, imagining how he could put _that _particular argument to _Herr Darrell._

It wasn't so funny, though, to think about how it was more than a fortnight before school started back. He pulled a hand through his hair and felt some grease, sticky on his fingers. He rubbed his hand on Soda's pillow and frowned. It wasn't so funny either that he was going to have to make it up to Darry. Talking to his brother seemed as difficult as ever these days. It seemed like after they had their big fight things got a little better, but lately Darry seemed kinda distracted. He was real tired, and worrying about money all the time. The little Pony brought in from lawn mowing and digging up gardens on the west side hardly seemed to make a dent in the pile of bills.

Glancing at Soda to check he was properly asleep, Pony swung round on his hips and reached down beside the bed for his jeans. He pulled himself up, a battered packet of Camels in his hand, and stretched his arm behind the headboard and across the window sill to release the window catch with his finger.

_All in all i__t __had been the crappiest of summers _he thought, as he struck a match against the wood of the headboard and sucked in hard to get the end paper to ignite – they were slightly wet for some reason. He relaxed slightly as he felt the familiar rush of nicotine hit his bloodstream.

_No one to hang out with, __Darry__ stressed out and tired all the time, Soda never home. Not to mention the stuff that happened before school broke up. _He shivered. _No_, _not to mention that, not to think about that. _He glanced down. _And now this._

_The one time, _he paused for effect, struck by the injustice of it, _the one frigging ti__me, I find someone to hang out with and__ have some fun. And this happens. _He took a deep draw on his cigarette.

"You're gonna catch it if Darry catches you smoking in bed." Soda said blearily from beside him, his eyes still shut.

Pony scowled. "So, don't tell him."

Soda screwed up his face, opening first one eye, then the other. He yawned and sat up, stretching his arms high above his head. "What's got into you, this early?" he yawned again, twisting across Pony to look at the clock on his desk. He groaned. "Pony – it's not even six yet."

His brother shrugged defensively. "I woke up."

Soda leaned back heavily against the pillows and shut his eyes determinedly. "Put it out." He said tiredly. "Or I'll catch it from Darry for _letting_ you smoke in bed."

Pony shrugged. "So? Deny everything."

"And it stinks. "

Pony sighed loudly and make a point of grinding the butt hard into the window sill, before tossing it out the window. "Will you go get me something to eat?"

Soda opened his eyes and cocked an eyebrow at his brother, amused. "Get something yourself."

Pony looked shiftily at the floor. "Darry said not to leave this room."

Soda grinned and sat up, his brown eyes twinkling. "Oh I get it – Darry gave you the whole bed with no dinner routine, huh?"

Pony squirmed against the headboard and shrugged. "I could get something. It's just – " he ran the palm of his left hand across the top of his head. "Sometimes, you don't want to, you know, antagonize a sleeping bear."

Soda grinned wider. "No kiddin'." He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and moved to the door. He turned back and did a mock bow back at his brother, "Soda special comin' up."

Pony grinned, and listened as his brother moved in a typically un-quiet manner across the hallway to the kitchen. He figured it would be okay. Darry was so tired these days he used three alarm clocks to wake himself up in the mornings. That was something Soda had been exploiting – several times he'd climbed out of their window after Darry went to bed, and not come back until the morning. Pony wasn't so keen on being left on his own, but Soda never would tell him where he went.

_And he never g__e__t__s__ caught, _Pony thought, returning to his theme of injustice. _He's sneaked out tons __of __times__ this summer without __Darry__ having a clue, and nothing. Then the one time I start having some fun – and this happens. _He glanced at his leg. The bright colours of the paint had hardened into dull matt letters. _If __Darry__ had a heart, he'__d let me off with a busted__ leg._

He jolted as he heard a pan hit the kitchen floor, Soda cussing, loudly, then quickly shushing himself. Pony grinned, G_ood plan Sodapop_. He listened for the sounds of his brother across the hallway but as usual, nothing was going to wake Darry up.

His mind wandered back to the day before.

_It had started off so well._

Curly wasn't meant to be out the reformatory for another three months, so it had been quite a surprise when he saw him in the grocery store. Pony had been staring at the candy, wondering what to get to make his dime last the longest, when he spotted Curly's solid frame, leaning against the shelves at an odd angle, wearing a leather jacket that was much too hot for this weather…

He felt guilty when Curly split the candy with him, taking a seemingly endless supply from various pockets and sleeves. They sat on a bench in the park and gorged themselves. Curly told him a couple of stories about the reformatory that Pony was almost certainly sure weren't true. He was trying to make himself sound tough, tough like his brother, but with Curly it was harder to pull off.

Pony frowned.

So all things considered, when Curly dared him to climb the roof of the grocery store, he probably should have backed off. But he goaded, and the summer had just been so damn _dull, _andhe figured, _why not?_

Of course, as usual with Curly, when they actually got on the roof, things got a little more complicated. He'd realised it probably wouldn't turn out well when Curly dropped – with more agility than you'd think for someone short like him - into the yard behind the grocery store, and started talking about finding the beer they stored there.

He found some too. Except then he had to get back up on the roof, and Pony was laughing so hard at him trying to climb up on the crates with six bottles of beer crammed into his pockets and shoved up his sleeves, that he forgot to look out, and they were both surprised by O'Toole's sudden whistle.

Pony had reached down and pulled Curly up onto the roof, and then they'd split – jumping off different ends of the store. It would have been fine too, if O'Toole hadn't picked Curly to chase after, and if Pony hadn't landed so hard on a concrete block so he heard that sickening crunch of bone.

He sighed, Soda was taking his own sweet time. He pulled the packet of Camels from underneath his pillow and grabbed one between his lips, like he'd seen James Dean do at one of the Nightly Doubles. He was running the match along the headboard when he heard someone clearing their throat at the door. He felt a rush of heat in his ears and looked up slowly.


	5. Long hot day at the DX

**DISLAIMER: The Outsiders is SE Hinton's book and the characters and settings her own - not mine.**

Soda grinned from the door way, still dressed in just his underpants, balancing a plate of blue scrambled eggs high in one hand like some high class waiter, and four slices of bread in the other. "Made you jump."

Pony rolled his eyes at his brother and lit up. He took a deep drag and leaned back. Soda bounced back on to the bed, spilling a little of the eggs along the way. He reached over and deftly pulled the weed from his brother's mouth and flicked it out the window in one movement.

"Hey!" Pony leaned over Soda and grabbed his left arm, pulling hard.

Soda grinned wider, using the arm holding the eggs to pin his brother down. He picked a little of the eggs up off the plate with his left hand and slid them under Pony's t-shirt. "Holler uncle." He laughed.

Pony strained against him. "No-" he gasped.

Soda lifted up the fork and dropped a little more of the eggs in his hair.

"Give in?"

Pony strained wildly against his brother's arms and Soda felt himself being pushed back suddenly, the plate falling against the sheets. Soda laughed harder, putting his hands out in a gesture of surrender as Pony made a grab for him.

"Stop – truce, truce." He said quickly through his laugher, grabbing his little brother by the wrists. He was still stronger than Pony – just. He waited until he felt his brother relax before letting go. He handed him a slice of bread and a fork and put his hand under the sheet to turn the eggs back on to the plate before handing it back to the younger boy.

Pony looked at it dubiously.

"It's just eggs Pone." He dusted off a bit of bread and slid it on top of the blue mess. "Mind if we share a plate? There weren't many clean ones left out there."

He took a bite out of his blue egg sandwich. "It's good." He said through a mouthful, but Pony had already started to eat.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Soda yawned and, leaning over the pump, strained to look at the big black clock over the cash register. He clocked the time and sighed, leaning further over the gas pump, lifting his legs out in the air and kicking back. _Only three thirty. _He dangled in mid air for a minute, trying to find his balance. Man, was he bored.

Steve was inside manning the register while big Hal was out. He'd arrived early so he could make the extra shift while Hal went on some errands out by Broken Arrow. Normally that would make things a lot more exciting round here. 'Cept Hal had given strict instructions that Steve was to stay _inside_ doing a stock check - and Soda out.

It was still hot. The air was thick and heavy with moisture._ The kind of weather that drains your energy right out, _Soda thought, lethargically, hanging in the air and wondering idly if this was what it felt like to fly. A flash of light caught his eyes, and he stood up quickly, suddenly straight, to see a shiny white corvette with red leather interior pull onto the concrete yard.

_That car's tuff, _Soda thought shielding his eyes with his left hand to take a look a better look at the occupants. _And the girl__s__ '__aint__ so __dusty either_ .He flashed a look at the booth. Steve had clocked the car too. Soda chuckled, _Man will he be pissed that I get to sort out this one._

He threw back his shoulders, reaching behind his neck to flick up the collar of his DX shirt, and casually walked over to the car.

"Hey." He flashed the two girls a trademark grin. "How can I help you ladies." He let his tongue roll around on the last word, leaning an arm lazily on the passenger side door.

The driver tipped a pair of wide black sunglasses half way down her nose, and caught his eye with her own. She was wearing bright red lipstick – the kind that looked still wet, like it was painted on with a brush around her full, wide, lips. Soda noticed it matched the skirt that was riding up past her knees, revealing a perfectly lush pair of tanned legs.

He reluctantly brought his eyes back to her face.

She didn't smile. "Just fill her up, wouldya?"

Soda leaned in closer, "The car - you mean?" he said in a low voice, trying to sound like Dally did when he used to talk dirty to girls.

The girl pushed the glasses back onto the bridge of her nose and stared straight ahead.

"Just do it, grease."

Soda stood up sharply. He wasn't used to having his overtures knocked back. _Hell I know it wasn't the best chat up line in the world, but you didn't have to be mean about it._ He glanced back at the booth to see Steve laughing at him.

He gave the girl a dirty look, but she had leaned over to talk to her passenger, a white gloved hand on the dial of the car radio.

_She '__aint__ got no taste in music anyway, _Soda thought, wincing at the sound of the Jim Reeves crooning filled the air. He pulled the nozzle over to the back of the car. _Nice car though. _The gas gurgled as it started to fill up. _A 1961 model – must have cost a bomb. I'd have got it in red though – or yellow. _He carefully replaced the cap and strolled back over to the girls. The blond in the passenger seat was reading out loud from some movie magazine to the other one.

"That's a dollar seventy five."

The driver reached into her purse, lazily pulled out a five and handed it to him without looking up.

Soda took it and strolled back over to the booth. He grimaced at Steve and handed the note in through the service window. "Uptight soc girls." He muttered.

Steve laughed, "Never thought I'd see the day - Sodapop Curtis failing to get a girl? You're losing your touch."

Soda groaned and took the change back. "Who wants 'um anyway? More trouble than they're worth."

Steve smiled, "Sure they are."

The driver took her change without a word and the car roared out of the station. Soda strolled back to the booth.

"Man, it's quiet. I'm gonna take a look at that car that came in this morning. Hal says it just needs a service."

Steve yawned, "Yeah, okay – I'll keep an eye out here. Hal called by the way, said he won't be back til seven."

"Seven ?" Soda groaned. "Great – another three hours of this."

It was hot in the corrugated shed where Hal stored the cars. The air was thick and smelled of oil. Soda coughed. _At least this beats standing outside for three hours. And __Darry__ will be pleased about the extra hour's wages,_ he thought, cheering up suddenly.

There was only one car in at the moment – a tuff red Pontiac that couldn't have done more than a couple of thousand miles, but the owner was real particular about keeping it in good shape. People brought their cars from all over to see Hal, even though the garage was in a rough part of town. He had a good rep with cars, made good money from them too.

"You done yet?" Soda looked round to see Steve's upside down head at the driver's side. His hair was so heavily greased it barely moved with the gravity of hanging there.

"Yeah, just taking a look." He said, sliding out from under the car.

"It's past seven. I closed the booth. Hal called. Said he got caught up fixing his brother's truck. Told me to lock up." Steve leaned against the driver's door. "This sure is a tuff car." He said, laying a hand affectionately on the leather upholstery.

Soda nodded slowly, his eyes running over the hood appraisingly. "You ain't kidding."

He looked up, wiping his hands on his shirt. Steve had a mischievous look on his face. "You checked it over properly?"

Soda shrugged, confused. "Sure I have – a coupla times in fact - to kill time."

Steve leaned over the driver's seat. "You know, Hal usually takes these for a test drive afterwards – just to check they're working properly and all."

He smiled infectiously.

Soda grinned back. "I don't know," he said carefully, rubbing a bit of imaginary dust off the windshield. He thought about those soc girls in their tuff car acting like he didn't even exist. Probably hadn't done a day's work in their lives. _Hell, this probably belongs to some spoilt soc brat too. I drive better than them - what can it hurt?_

He looked up slowly at Steve, and nodded, his eyes dancing recklessly. "I s'pose it's best make sure it works and all. You know – out on the open road."

- - -- - - - -- - - -- - - - - - -

Thanks for reading. I have done a bit of a touch up job on chapters two to four thanks to a really helpful review - i was losing my way a bit! As mentioned before reviews good, bad and honest greatly appreciated.


	6. Tuff cars and soc girls

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Outsiders**

Soda nudged the steering wheel and felt the Pontiac move smoothly to the right.

_It corners li__ke __it's__ on wheels, _he thought grinning, as lights from the run down streets of their neighbourhood flashed by him. He flicked on the lights. It was just after sunset and the night was setting in.

"Wanna cruise by the Dingo?" Steve was sitting beside him, running his comb through the complicated swirls of his hair.

"Sure. " Soda turned to look at his friend, and rolled his eyes. "Jeeze, Steve you're worse than a girl."

Steve punched him on the arm, playfully, but hard. "If you've got it, flaunt it Sodapop." He pulled down the passenger mirror and slipped down a last lock of dark hair over his forehead. " 'Sides we 'aint all Soda Curtis with the gals all _swoonin__'." _He looked at him pointedly, his mouth twitching with laughter.

Soda groaned, "You're not gonna let this afternoon lie, are you?"

Steve gave him a half smile out the side of his mouth, and winked. "Nope. Way I see it, you might be losing your touch."

Soda laughed, "Is that right? Well we'll just see about that next time we're partyin' at Bucks, shall we?"

He touched his foot to the gas pedal and smiled widely as the wind hit his hair. Sometimes he couldn't imagine being anything other than sixteen.

Steve looked at him quizzically. "What happened to Angelique?"

Soda shrugged, "She 'aint called in a while."

Steve put his arm out the window and leaned back casually. They were getting near the Dingo. Soda slowed down for the intersection, and stopped as the lights turned to red.

"You've been going through more girls than I've had hot dinners lately."

Soda shrugged, "Nah, just the one. You can't get too attached though, you know?"

Steve gave his friend a strange look out of the corner of his eye, as the car crossed the intersection and cruised slowly towards the Dingo. There was a clutch of people, some hoods, but mostly plain old greasers, sitting in the parking lot. A couple of them looked up as they drew level. Steve scanned the cars, "No talent here tonight."

Soda grinned, "Talk about me? You're the one that's hot for it lately."

"Let's just get out of here – see what this baby can do, huh?"

"Sure thing." Soda grinned wickedly and hit the gas pedal, hard.

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Darry glanced at his wrist. _Seven thirty already. _He turned off the ignition out of the old Ford and sat for a minute looking over the fence into their house. _The lights are on, so I guess Pony's minded me – or is pretending to, _he thought wryly. He hated this. _Since when did I have to be the bad big brother in all of this? They used to think I was cool. _He glanced automatically at the plain steel watch on his arm. _Dad's watch.__ What would you do? _He sighed in exasperation at himself. _Jesus Dar, get it together. He's dead, that's what he did, get over it already. _

He grabbed his tool belt from the passenger seat and pulled the heavy old Ford door open, jumping onto the ground outside. It was still hot, even though it was properly dark now. The neighbourhood dogs had started up their nightly barking, and the crickets were loud in his ears as he walked across the burnt grass to the front porch.

He glanced in the window and released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Pony was leaning against the bottom of the sofa, opposite Two-Bit, his leg spread out straight in front of him, looking lazily at a fan of cards in his hand.

Darry pulled open the screen door and stepped inside. He sniffed, "Is that dinner I smell?"

Pony pulled himself up using the side of the sofa, his cards still held tight in his hand, lifted himself onto one crutch, and moved into the kitchen, without looking at his brother.

Two-Bit glanced up, "It sure is. I'm hungry too – and you've run out of beer."

Darry's eyes followed his brother into the kitchen. "My heart bleeds." He dropped his tool belt on the sofa and leaned down to turn on the TV. The news wasn't on yet – just some wildlife show. _Great._

He stood up and stretched before picking his tool belt off the sofa, and moving into the hallway to dump it inside his room. He heard the strains of cartoon laughter as Two-Bit changed the channel, and rolled his eyes. It was like having a forth brother around sometimes with Two-Bit these days. Didn't he ever go home?

Darry sat on his bed and pulled off his boots, setting them neatly by the dresser for the morning. He made his way back across the hallway in his bare feet, pushing open his brothers' room with one finger as he went passed.

Pony was laying out plates on the table as he came in to the kitchen. "Soda's not back is he?"

His brother shrugged, "No."

"He call?"

Pony shrugged again, pulling down a couple of mismatched glasses to add to the arrangement on the table. "No."

Darry sighed. "Great." He watched as Pony limped awkwardly over to the oven, opening the door and peering inside with uncharacteristic attention.

"I'm gonna wash up before dinner, okay?" His brother grunted in response.

* * *

Pony waited til the shower stopped and his brother emerged from the bathroom into the kitchen, a towel wrapped round his waist, revealing a tan chest glistening with beads of water, all lean body and defined muscle. Pony wondered idly if he'd ever look like that. _Probably not._ Darry still looked like a football player, with big broad shoulders and a nipped in waist. His older brother moved past him, holding the towel with one hand as he moved through to the living room and back to his room. 

Pony leaned on his crutch and looked at the white-turned-grey floor of the kitchen. There were interesting green splodges around the outside from when Soda threw pancake mix over him two weeks ago. _We'll need to clear that up before the state comes. _

He frowned at the doorway. _For God's sake, stop being such a __woose__ and do this already._

He swung across the kitchen on one crutch and followed his brother's trail into the hallway. Darry's door was still open. He leaned against the doorframe and watched as his brother sat on the bed to pull on a clean pair of jeans.

"What is it Pony?" Darry stood up, breathing in as he pulled up the zip of his jeans. "You know I said you can't go out, so don't even ask."

Pony set his crutch further into the room and pulled himself inside. He reached out and picked up a book on Darry's dresser and casually leafed through it. Darry's room was much tidier than his and Soda's - everything had a place. Hell, even the bed was made.

He felt his older brother looking at him from across the room. "No it's not that." Pony felt his face redden.

"Well, what?" Darry picked up a clean dark t-shirt he'd laid out on the bed. "Pony?" he added, slightly more impatient, pulling it over his head.

"It's just –" Pony tucked the paperback under his arm and look his brother in the face. "I'm sorry, okay? I know it was a stupid thing to do and I didn't mean to make things worse."

Darry paused in the process of rolling up the sleeves of his T-shirt and turned to look at his brother, one arm still on his sleeve. _He looks miserable,_ he thought grimly.

"It's just . " Pony's voice dropped and he looked awkwardly at the floor. "I had no one to hang out with, and I found Curly, and I sort of thought it would be fun." He looked up, "I'm sorry, okay?"

Darry finished tucking his sleeve up, moving towards the dresser to fix his hair. He turned to Pony and cracked a rare grin. "Okay, 'nuff said." He said, ruffling his brother's hair.

"What's for dinner, anyway little buddy?"

Pony smiled back broadly, "Beans and – " he looked at Darry suddenly stricken. "oh shit." He lifted his clutch and quickly left the room, getting to the kitchen in time to see smoke billowing out of the oven.

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Seventy felt pretty fast on a straight road, at night, with the roof down. Soda leaned over the driver's door so his head was buffeted hard by the wind and whooped loudly.

Steve grinned nervously beside him. "Hey – go easy Soda, we don't want to crash the thing."

Soda pulled his head back in, grinning wildly. "I love speeeeed."

Steve laughed, "Hell, this 'aint even fast – you wait til it's my turn."

"Not fast enough huh?" Soda pressed harder on the gas pedal, holding tightly onto the steering wheel to keep the car steady as it flew down the road.

The wailing started just after they hit eighty.

"shit, shit, shit. " Soda automatically slowed down as he saw blue lights flash in his rear view mirror.

Steve cursed under his breath. "You'll need to pull over." He glanced at Soda, who was repeating the same mantra slowly to himself. "Unless you want to try for the state line?" he said sarcastically.

Soda glared at him, switching on the indicator to show he was about to pull over. "Any more bright ideas?"

Steve smiled grimly, "We're just testing it out. We work for the garage. What can they do? Give you another ticket?"

- - - - - - -

Thanks for all the reviews I've been getting - good to get a range of opinions. Some of them have been really helpful in redrafting stuff, while others have kept me optimistic, so reviewers, I salute you... I'd be grateful if you'd keep up the good work and let me know what you think, good and bad, but honest. Thanks for reading...


	7. Laying down the law

DISCLAIMER: I own nuffing...

Soda watched through the driver's mirror as the cop shut the door of the patrol car, tipped his hat on his head, and strolled slowly over to their convertible. He waited until he drew level with the driver's door before leaning over.

"You boys were going at quite a pace back there."

Soda squinted as the full beam of torchlight hit his eyes.

"Uh, " he thought wildly for an excuse, "Sorry officer."

"Uh huh." The cop stepped round to the front of the Pontiac, the beam of light from his torch dancing against the hood. Soda said a slient prayer. "Pretty nice car you got here."

Steve coughed. "Uh, yeah, we were road testing it."

The cop pulled the torch up to Steve's face. "Were you now? Fancy that."

He walked back to the driver's side, reached over and quickly pulled out the keys. "Step out of the vehicle please boys."

Soda let his head fall against the head rest, closed his eyes and let out a short breath. _Darry's__ going to kill me. _His eyes still closed, he pulled open the door and stepped onto the gravely road.

The cop gestured for him to walk over and join Steve who was standing, leaning against the passenger door, his features carefully arranged in an attitude of indifference.

"Driving license and registration please." The cop held out an open palm.

Soda glanced at Steve. "He told you, we were taking it for a test drive – we 'aint got the registration details."

"Is that right? Your license then, please."

Soda sighed, and considered flat out refusing. _I could take the fifth, and then they wouldn't know who I was and __Darry__ wouldn't find out and - _

"Boy, I'm not gonna ask you again." The cop's deep drawl interrupted his thoughts. He sighed again, and reached into his jeans pocket to pull the license out of his wallet.

The cop brought his torch up to read the name on the card. "Sodapop Patrick Curtis – this a joke?" he brought the beam back up to Soda's face, causing him to squint. Steve smirked.

"No it 'aint a joke – it's my name."

"It's your name, huh? Well Sodapop Patrick I have to tell you and your little friend here, that I'm not entirely convinced this is your car."

Steve turned angrily to the cop. "No shit Sherlock? We told you already, we're testing it."

Soda groaned. _This isn't good._

- - - - - - - - - - - -- - -- - - - - - - - - - -

Soda shifted uncomfortably on the hard seat and rubbed his wrists. _Who knew handcuffs would be so uncomfortable?_

He glanced at Steve, who'd stretched his long lean body out on the bed opposite, lying staring at the ceiling like a hardened con.

"Did you have to cuss at him like that?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's why we're here right enough. He sees two greasers in a car like that and he's just gonna let us go? Sure he is." Steve leaned over and smashed his fist, hard into the concrete wall. "Course if you'd just called Darry –"

Soda winced. _Great.__ This was just great. Steve could get moody all he liked - there was no way he was __gonna__ call __Darry__ to come and pick them up - it'd kill him to have to come and pick up his brother at the cop shop. He'll just have to come up with another plan_ Soda thought stubbornly. _Course if he didn't come up with something soon, they'd both be mincemeat if the cops took it on themselves to call home…_

"You know I'm not gonna do that."

Steve sat up, and rubbed the flats of his hands against his face. "Yeah I know. " He wondered what his dad would make of all this if he found out – probably nothing that wouldn't hurt – a lot. He sighed. "It's okay – you can stand easy. I called Hal – he's gonna come and explain."

"Hal –" Soda said slowly, turning it over in his mind. "He mad?"

"No – delighted." Steve shot him a hard look. "What do you think?"

Soda groaned. _Where the hell am I __gonna__ get a new job?_

- - -- - - - - - - -- -- - - - -

Soda cracked half a dozen eggs into the fat of the frying pan. He'd forgot to eat dinner sometime along the way last night, they'd run out of chocolate cake, and boy was he hungry. He reached over to pull out the last slices of bread from the pack and put them on plates. They were running low on food again. He shouted at the door. "Breakfast!"

"Woah-" Darry appeared suddenly behind him. "No need to yell, little buddy, I'm right here." He leaned past him to pick up the coffee pot, and sat down at the table with a mug.

Soda grunted, and picked up a spatula to lift up the eggs.

Darry watched his brother's back as he deftly moved the eggs onto three plates, and sipped at his coffee slowly.

"You were out late last night." He said mildly, as Soda opened the refrigerator and took out some grape jelly.

Soda carried the plates - and jelly – to the table. He pulled out a chair and sat down.

"I thought I told you to call."

Soda dipped his knife into the jelly, and frowned. "I can take care of myself Darry."

His brother gave him an odd look and spun one of the plates towards him with a flick of his wrist. "What's with the attitude, little buddy?"

Soda shrugged, looking at his plate and chewing steadily. "I'm just sick of you wanting to know where I am all the time, I'm sixteen, I can take care of myself."

Darry raised his eyebrows sceptically. "That's called being guardian, Soda."

"Well, I'm sick of it." Soda said, moodily.

"Well, frankly that's tough." Darry quickly glanced at the door. "Which reminds me, you remember what tomorrow is?"

Soda looked up slowly, "yeah," he said quietly.

"Well," he said slowly, taking a bite of his eggs. "I think we should do something. Stick around okay?" Soda nodded.

Darry chewed thoughtfully as he flicked through a bundle of letters on the table.

"Is that a final notice?" Soda pointed at a beige envelope, marked with bold red letters. Darry winced. "Yip – electricity. They better be able to hold of til the end of the week though." Darry brought his left hand up to his face and rubbed his temple.

_When did he start to look so old, _Soda thought, guiltily.

Darry glanced at his watch. "I gotta get going. We're running behind on that Hillside job – you wanna lift?"

Soda looked at the table. "Nah – I'll walk."

"Suit yourself." Darry stood up, "Make sure Pony's up before you go, will you? Tell him to do those dishes ."

He picked up his tool belt from the counter. "And Soda?" he turned round and pointed his index finger at his brother's chest. "Don't make me have to look at changing how we run things round here, you understand?"

Soda scowled and stuck out his tongue at his brother's retreating back. He picked up his fork and moved the remaining bits of uneaten egg round the plate. Suddenly he wasn't feeling so hungry. And where the hell was he gonna find another job?

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That's it for that chapter... hopefully another update will be hot on the heels of this one... thank you as ever for all the reviews - they are great for motivation, especially as time goes on, so once more kind reviewers, i salute you...

I like the fact some of them are very honest and direct... i like the fact people disagree - that shows they were writing frankly in the first place... and a life without conflict is very dull indeed...


	8. chocolate milk and cigarettes

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Outsiders

Pony flicked his fingers and watched as the tennis ball sailed towards the ceiling. He and Darry may have made up, but it didn't stop him still being grounded, and man, was he bored. It was different somehow sitting in your room reading when you knew the others were in the next room, and Two-Bit could come in at any moment and interrupt to take you to a movie or something, but when you _knew _that the highlight of your day would be seeing if there was enough stuff left over in the kitchen to make a chocolate cake, it was a different matter.

He'd already snuck into Darry's room to see if he could find anything interesting to read, but it appeared his brother had hidden the more interesting books real well, because Pony had come out with nothing apart from Darry's old school year books – which was funny for a bit, especially when you saw his hair – and that stupid suit mom made him wear to his first dance freshman year, but apart from that, the Curtis house was a long way from interesting.

He caught the ball and put it back down beside him on the bed. It was half way through the morning and the air had taken on a still, turgid quality, the light outside darkening like it was preparing for a storm. It was still hot though. He wiped his forehead with the back of his arm and shifted uncomfortably. His leg was still throbbing - the three aspirin Darry left on his bedside table didn't do much to ease the pain. And it itched like crazy.

Soda was acting weird too. He'd barely slept and then he'd heard him and Steve whispering in the kitchen before leaving, late as usual, for work. He picked up the ball and threw it hard into the air again. _Usually Soda tells me everything. _He caught the ball and aimed again, for a patch of ceiling above the door frame. _Actually scrub that – Soda's not told me anything worth telling since summer started. He didn't even properly explain what happened with Sandy._

A loud knock jerked him out of his thoughts. He jumped, disorientated, and looked up at the window to see Curly's grinning head pointing at the window latch.

"You took your time." His friend growled as soon as the window opened.

Pony nodded in the direction of his cast. "It's kinda difficult to move, you know, when you've got this lump of plaster over half of you." He let himself fall back onto the bed as Curly hauled himself over the sill.

"You're such a hood – what's wrong with doors?"

Curly pulled his second leg into the room and dropped his dirty boots on the bed beside Pony. His eyes twinkled, "All good practice man." He set his legs down on the bed. " 'Sides I thought I'd come and see how you were, and I didn't fancy busting into superman, you know."

Pony rolled his eyes. "Very tough of you." He glanced at the door, "Actually if you hear his truck, beat it out of here, okay?"

Curly's eyes danced in amusement, "So I'm not in ole Darry's good books, huh?"

Pony frowned, and swung his legs round off the bed.

"You and me neither." He said, reaching out to pick up his crutch from the floor and pulling himself up to a standing position. "What happened anyway?"

Curly shrugged. "Nothin'. They couldn't pin a thing on me." He reached down and lifted Soda's broken sunglasses from the floor, starting to twirl them between his fingers. "So you busted your leg up pretty good, huh?"

Pony nodded, and swung out towards the door. "Want something to eat?"

Curly nodded, "Sure."

- - -- - - - - - -- - - - - - - -- - - - -

Darry slowed down and shifted down a gear as the truck hit a deep wave of water. The weather had broken just after lunch, and after an hour of sitting in Pete's truck, he'd finally agreed it didn't look like it was gonna let up any time soon, and sent the crew home. Some of the other guys had talked about going over to some bar out by the tracks, but Darry didn't have any money – besides, he smiled grimly at the injustice of it, he wasn't even legal yet.

Darry indicated right and turned up their street. It was awash with water. Deep puddles were forming at the side of the road where the drains were blocked, and trash floated down the current formed in the gutter, with no where to go. In the soc side of town the rain smelled clean, made the grass seem greener, washed down the driveways, as the wives and maids pulled the curtains back and put on the lights, preparing for an afternoon at home. But over on the eastside, the rain mixed with the burnt grass of the front yards to make a browny liquid that poured down the sidewalk, taking with it the trash people carelessly dropped outside their houses. Already the blocked drains had started to smell. Darry pulled up outside their house, pulled the neck of his shirt over his head, and made a dash inside.

"Pony!" He pulled open the screen door and made a face at the messy living room. _He could have at least picked some of this stuff up. _

"Pone?" he called again, walking through the hall. He tapped open the door to find his brother lying on the bed, seemingly engrossed in a book.

He grunted at the open window. "Pony – don't you ever use your head? It's howling up a storm out there. You should keep the window closed." He moved over to close the latch.

Pony put down his book and looked up, yawning. "It's hot in here."

"Well, it'll be wet real soon, too, if you keep the window open." Darry glanced at the room. "I thought I told you to clear up this room? It's a mess in here." He pointed at the bedcovers, "And those need washing - if that paint ever comes out."

His brother smirked. Darry shook his head. "You can do it when you get back. You wanna come to the store with me?"

Pony jumped quickly up off the bed, grabbing a crutch from the side of the wall. "Yip."

His brother smiled wryly. "Well take both of those with you – I don't want you falling and breaking the other leg."

Darry picked up the coupons from the kitchen counter and followed his brother back out to the truck. He grinned involuntarily as Pony swung enthusiastically down the porch into the rain. _He's like an excited puppy.__ Maybe it's about time to give him his freedom before he drives me insane. _

- - -- -- - - - - - - -

Darry handed his brother the coupons. "Anything we need, we need to get it with these, you understand?" Pony nodded, his eyes, scanning the magazine rack inside the door. "I mean it, I need some help Pone, I've had to cut the grocery budget – we're broke, so I need a bit of creative thinking." Darry sighed as his brother nodded vacantly and started to move over to the magazines. He grabbed him by the shirt. "This way," he said firmly, directing him towards the fruit and vegetables.

Darry looked back from the checkout to see his brother ambling towards him. "Did you get the apples?"

"Huh?"

"Ponyboy!"

His brother grinned and attempted to cock one eyebrow the way Two-Bit had been trying to teach him to all summer. "Don't have a cow Dar, they're here." He placed the bag on the belt and stood back.

Darry shook his head, "I should have left you at home at this rate."

The younger boy shrugged, "I helped didn't I? We got enough stuff."

Darry glanced at the contents of the belt - chocolate milk, oats, two loaves of bread, a bag of bruised apples, two packs of ground beef that went out of date that day, a sack of potatoes, some carrots, a bag of donuts discounted to a nickel, a couple of bags of chips, stuff to make chocolate cake, a carton of cigarettes, and a jumbo-sized jar of peanut butter that was on special offer. _It'll take Soda about a day to get through this lot._

"Can I go look at the magazines?"

Darry looked up. "No – you're grounded, remember?"

Pony looked at him mutinously. Darry sighed, "Pone, the last time you had a look at the magazines you spent so long there, the guy made me buy one, remember?"

His brother shrugged, "That was only because I accidentally ripped it."

"Exactly." Darry turned back to the front and heard his brother sigh heavily behind him.

_Well, tough. I'm not spending my last dollar on some movie magazine. _

His eyes scanned the queue impatiently. It wasn't moving very fast. He took a small step back as he breathed in a sour whiff from the man in front. He was leaning over his groceries protectively, carrying them in his arms, rather than putting them on the belt. His hair was dark and matted, his brown jacket too heavy for the time of year, and wet. He was shuffling along like some veteran of a chain gang, earning a look from the sharp eyed cashier. Darry frowned. It worried him how people got like that, lost, dirty and defeated.

The cashier rung up the last item. Darry shifted impatiently, watching as the man in front pulled out some change, along with a dirty handkerchief and a ball of roughly coiled string. He started counting out the change into the cashier's hand.

"You're a dollar short."

The man looked at her, confused, and started digging in his other pocket.

"Look if you aint got the money, you'll need to put something back."

The man pulled a hand through his hair and muttered something under his breath.

"Here." Darry said quickly, handing the cashier some change. The man grunted and moved off quickly, clutching his brown paper bag protectively to his chest. Darry watched him move off, and picked up the chocolate milk and the cigarettes.

"Darry-"

"You should be cutting down anyway." He shot back gruffly, putting them on the side of the belt.

- - - - - -

"What d'you do that for?" Pony dropped the last of the bags behind his seat. The rain had eased off and it was turning out bright and wet.

"You worried about your cigarettes huh?"

"No – I just – " His little brother looked at him strangely. "Just not something I thought you'd do."

Darry leaned over and pulled a couple of apples out of one of the bags. He handed one to his brother, and leaned against the truck.

He could feel the younger boy's eyes on him. "I dunno, it's just," he took a bite. "People need dignity, you know?" he turned back to Pony, "You want a leg up?"

"Nah – I can manage." Pony used one leg to spring up into the seat of the truck.

"Hey-" Darry turned as winced as the man from the check out moved towards them. His eyes moved down to the quart of scotch, half out of its brown paper bag, lid opened. He groaned. _Great call, Dar._

The man swayed slightly and moved closer.

"Look man – I don't have any more –"

The older guy put his arm on Darry's shoulder, his sharp blue eyes meeting his face. "I wanted to say thanks." He looked younger than he thought in the queue – maybe in his thirties rather than his fifties. He handed him a slip of paper. _Great, _Darry thought, _I go and help someone for once and he turns out to be a crazy._

But the man pulled his arm off his shoulder and walked past the truck towards the highway. Darry looked down and unfurled the slip of paper.

- - - -- - -- - - -- - - -- -

Please review - good, bad, but honest etc, not sure how you're going to react to the, er, story direction, but am prepared to be pulled apart as this develops...


	9. Trying hard to forget

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Outsiders, just borrowing them…**

Darry lay on his bed, his eyes half open, trying to ignore the suspicious looking crack that had formed on the ceiling above his closet. _I swear this house is falling apart._ There was a loud bang from the kitchen. _For God's sake __Sodapop__, can't you shut up for a minute?_

He opened his eyes wider and laced his fingers together behind his head. He glanced at one of the alarm clocks on his dresser, and groaned. He couldn't figure out why Soda had taken to getting up so early. You'd think that with the late nights he'd been making, he'd be glad to idle about in bed a bit longer. Sunday was their only day off, but it was getting harder and harder to sleep in these days. Not that any of them would find it easy to sleep in today, however much they'd like to. He banged his head against the pillow and sighed loudly.

Soda was crouched _in _rather than over the oven, his head stuck deep inside.

Darry leaned down and pulled on the back of his shirt. "Soda – what're you doing? Get up."

Soda emerged slowly, gingerly moving his head back from the top of the oven.

"Just tryin' to see what's wrong."

"Uh huh." Darry looked at his brother's dirt-smeared face sceptically. "Well sticking your head in it probably aint the way to find out."

Soda shrugged and sat down on the floor – "You try it, the dials don't work."

Darry turned one with his index finger and thumb. Nothing happened. _Great.__ What else can break? We're __gonna__ end up eating off a __frigging __campfire at this rate – I'm sure social services will love that._

He groaned suddenly and walked over to the light switch. He pressed the lever. Nothing. "Great, just great." He turned to Soda. "There's nothing wrong with the oven. It's the power. We've been switched off."

Soda scratched his head. "Huh. But that's not happened before."

Darry placed the palms of his hands against the counter and leaned against it, facing the floor. "No kiddin'. " He slammed his palm hard against the countertop. "Great, just great."

- - - - - - - -- - - -- - --

Even though it was the third week in August, it was cold in the cemetery. There seemed to be a permanent wind round the hillside plot where their parents were buried. Darry stood back and watched his two brothers. Tears had formed salty lines down Soda's face before they got up the hill. He kept brushing them away fiercely with the back of his arm, and now he was bent down over the shared grave, shoulders heaving as he pulled away the weeds that had formed near the plain headstone. Darry shifted uncomfortably. _We should come up here more often. _A year was a long time.

He glanced at his youngest brother, shoulders held stiffly as he stood a little apart, staring at the headstone. Darry felt the occasional glance as Pony turned to gauge how his eldest brother was reacting.

_What am I supposed to say to him? I don't know how he's meant to grieve any more than I know how I'm meant to. Not that __I've had time__ though that's probably a good thing,_he thought, ruefully. He wondered again if it was a mistake, bringing him here. Pony hadn't had a really bad nightmare since after Dally died. _But you can't just forget people. _

A year was a long time. Darry remembered the funeral as though it was at the bottom of a really deep well – and one that he'd been climbing out of ever since. He wouldn't want to live the last year again, not ever. And if he prayed, he prayed the next one wouldn't be as bad, not brilliant, but certainly not as bad as last year.

He guessed he should be thinking about their parents. It was hard to remember them on top of a windy, cold hill. That wasn't where his laughing, happy, hard working dad belonged – and certainly not where mom belonged, with her hit and miss food and fiery temper.

_What would you think of me now though, eh? A year afterwards and we're still together, just. Things are creaking at the seams and I can't even make the utilities even though Soda's had to drop out to help me, and I sent Pony to work cutting lawns for __socs__. We're still together, except Pony's mixing with hoods, and Soda's getting__ a little __wild like he used to, except you're not here to keep him in line, and I'm just his brother, what do I know? _

Darry looked up at the lines of headstones stretching up the hill. _We may not even be able to visit you together next year. _He shook his head as if to clear it of uncomfortable thoughts and stepped forward. He laid the bunch of multicoloured flowers on the headstone. He wasn't sure what they were, just whatever Soda could grab from one of those huge soc gardens on the west side, while he kept the engine running. Soda had picked a bunch of yellow flowers for himself and he placed them on the bottom of the stone. Pony put his – a single white rose – beside Soda's.

Darry cleared his throat. "Right let's go." He said more gruffly than he meant to, and they trailed separately down the hill.

The house was quiet when they got back. Two-Bit and Steve knew better than to come round today.

Darry shivered. It had started to rain outside and the house was unseasonably cold. Pony made a bee-line for his room. Darry put his hand on one of his crutches to stop him. "Come on Pone," he said, his voice coming out softer than usual. "Let's get some dinner."

" 'Um not hungry." Pony mumbled, his head facing the floor.

"Well, eat anyway." Darry said, putting an arm on his shoulder and steering him into the kitchen.

Soda laid a loaf of bread on the table along with some grape jelly, peanut butter, and chocolate chips he found in the cupboard, and sank into one of the kitchen chairs.

They ate peanut butter sandwiches in silence and went to bed when it got too dark to see anymore.

_Yeah, they'd be real proud, _Darry thought sarcastically as he lay in bed and pulled up the sheets.

- - - - - - - -

Thanks for the reviews – including very useful one about slang of the 1960s – have tried to do some research but only came up with the origins of "don't have a cow" were british from late 50s (so figures why it stands out for north Americans more than here) – does anyone have any good links to websites on this subject? Would very much appreciate it! Merci buckets.

ps apologies for any obvious typos etc - please point out - posting in a rush - should be on my way by now - eek!


	10. nothing legal, man

**DISCLAIMER: ****I don'****t own The**** O****utsiders**

"Soda! Will you get up already? I'm not going to tell you again!"

Soda groaned as Darry's voice boomed from the kitchen through the thin walls of the hall to the bed, which had just started to warm up nicely. He lifted his arm off Pony's chest and pulled the spare pillow from where it landed somewhere behind him last night, and dropped it on top of his head.

"I mean it Soda –"

_I thought you weren't going to tell me again, _he thought lazily burrowing into the warm furrow of the mattress. He wasn't exactly itching to start his day.

_Man is __Darry__ grumpy when he doesn't get a hot shower._

He jumped as the door flew open suddenly, and felt the cool air hit his feet as a pair of strong arms grabbed his ankles and pulled hard. His eyes shot open and he pulled his arm out to grab hold of his brother's arm as he manhandled him on to the floor. _Jesus Dar –you're strong. _He sat on the floor by the bed and rubbed his arm.

"Hey!"

Darry's face was unsmiling. "When I say get up, it's time to get up – geddit?"

Soda frowned. _Man, but is he in a bad mood._

Darry crossed his arms across his chest, "And why are you sleeping in your jeans?"

Soda looked down and groaned inwardly.

"Can't a person get a little sleep around here?" Pony sat up blearily in bed. Darry shot him a look.

Soda stood up. "I'm gonna take that shower."

"There's no hot-"

"I know." He shrugged, "I'll live."

Darry was at the kitchen table, sipping his coffee and reading the paper, when Soda emerged, shivering from the bathroom.

"You better hurry up, or you're gonna be late – again."

Soda rolled his eyes at the ceiling. He ducked back in the bathroom to get his jeans, only slightly wet from lying on the floor. He put them on and pulled out a chair from under the table, pulling the plate of bread towards him.

Darry put his paper down to the side, and chewed slowly for a second, looking at his brother thoughtfully.

"What?"

"Aren't you gonna ask where your DX shirt is?"

"Huh?" Soda looked up sharply. "I mean, yeah."

He concentrated on spreading jelly on his bread, sure Darry was watching him a little too hard.

"Well," he said slowly, "It's in my room – I ironed the other day – I left it on my bed for you."

Soda grunted, dropped a spoonful of peanut butter on his bread and a spoon of sugar, covered it with a second piece and took a large bite.

Pony hopped on to the seat next to him, laying his broken leg on a chair. He looked at the bread without enthusiasm. "We gonna get the electricity back on today?"

Darry looked up, "No Pony, I thought we'd just sit in the dark for a coupla months, maybe start cooking outside, save some money –"

"He was just askin' Dar." Soda said through a sticky mouthful of peanut butter.

"Well yeah – I'm gonna sort it out later." Darry turned to his middle brother, "I need you to bring home your pay packet pronto today. Maybe I can pay it before the place closes."

"Yeah." Soda shifted uncomfortably. Hal always paid them on Mondays, said it was a good incentive to come to work on time at the start of the week.

The screen door slammed. "Hellllo." Steve made a bee-line for the fridge. "Hey you know this-"

"Not working. Yeah we know." Darry stood up, picking his tool belt and lunch from the counter. He turned to do a double take at Steve. "You not working today?"

Soda groaned inwardly. Steve looked confused, looked down at his shirt and then back at Darry. He grabbed half of Soda's sandwich from his plate and shrugged. "Me? Nah – ripped the last one – Hal's getting me a new one."

"Uh huh." Darry said, looking slowly from Steve to Soda, back to Steve, who took another bite out of Soda's sandwich and winked.

Darry shook his head. _I don't even want to know what's going on with those two. _"You want a lift?"

Soda shook his head.

--- -- - -- -- -- - - - -- - - - -- - - - - - - - -- - - - -- - ---

"I'm telling you Soda, I don't reckon he's gonna change his mind." Steve said for the umpteenth time as they rounded the corner of street towards the DX station. "You saw him. He was hopping mad. I thought he was gonna leave us in that cell."

Soda shrugged. "I've gotta do something."

"Fine – just don't say I didn't warn you." He pulled Soda back as a truck crashed through a large puddle on their left, sweeping water over the pavement. Steve jumped into the road shouting a loud string of obscenities at the driver, before calmly turning back to Soda. "You'll get another job – Darry'll just have to manage, won't he?"

Steve refused point blank to step onto the concrete forecourt, so Soda pulled up the collar of his shirt and walked determinedly to the booth on his own. Hal was sitting behind the till, chewing on his pen, a raft of papers spread out in front of him. He looked up.

"What the hell are you doing here Curtis?"

Soda shifted uncomfortably. "I brought you back my shirt." He said hopefully, handing over the crumpled blue garment he'd been carrying, bunched up in one hand.

Hal stood up and took it without a word, laying it on the seat behind the counter, and turning back to Soda questioningly.

"And, I was wonderin' –"

He sighed heavily. "Don't push your luck kid. You're lucky I didn't lay charges, you know that? And if you're looking for last week's wages, you can forget it."

To his shame, Soda felt the beginnings of tears prick the back of his eyes, "But Hal – I need this job."

The older man looked at him steadily for a moment, and wiped his hands on his overalls. "I know that Curtis. If you remember that's why I gave you it in the first place, even though you and Randle can be a handful. But I didn't reckon on you two screwing with my business." He pursed his lips. "Once you've done that, there ain't no going back."

"So?" Steve leaned back against the low wall round the back of the DX and took a draw on his cigarette.

"Give me one of those will you?"

Soda lit the new cigarette from Steve's butt and inhaled deeply.

"That good huh?"

Soda stood up and kicked the wall. "Darry's relying on that money." He swore loudly, taking another deep draw. "How could I have been so stupid?" He kicked the wall again, hard, and started spluttering as the smoke hit the back of his throat.

" Woah –easy." Steve kicked at a dirty puddle by his feet. "C'mon man, we'll think of something."

Dairy Queen paid a dollar twenty five an hour – much less than the DX, but it wasn't hiring, neither was the Dingo, the grocery store, or a bunch of other garages they'd looked up in the phone book and called from the phone at Steve's house. They'd stopped for a break in the half broken swings by the lot, and were sitting, half-heartedly swinging on them. For the first time in about a year Soda thought maybe he could use a strong drink.

Soda looked miserably at his feet, watching the uneven ground fade in and out of focus as the plastic seat swung gently, picking up momentum before it almost stopped at the top of the short arc and swung slowly back to earth. He guessed he'd have to tell Darry when he got home, and God knows what would happen if the state found out, nothing good, that was for sure. _They can go to hell if they want to shove __Pony and me in some boy's home_he thought stubbornly.

A cough from behind broke through his thoughts. He twisted his head round and squinted to see a lean figure slouching against one of the posts that held up the swing set.

"I hear you boys might be in the market for a job."

---- - -- - - - - - - -- - - - -

Thanks for reading! Please R&R, good, bad, honest etc… as usual, thanks for the help so far, apologies for the updating delay… **Romba****nanringa**

(I found a website that tells you how to say thank you in 465 languages… should keep me going for a while – that one's tamil, apparently)


	11. Parenting Skills

**DISCLAIMER: If I owned the Outsiders my life would be a great deal more exciting than sitting posting fanfiction on a Sunday night!**

Soda let the screen door bang hard and fell down on to the couch to take off his shoes, aiming them at Steve as he bounded through the door after him.

Two-Bit leaned over and pulled Soda roughly off the sofa, by his legs, grinning like a maniac. Soda pulled at him by the waist and twisted him round, pushing down hard on his chest. "You can't beat me – I'm the prizefighting champion of the-"

Soda yelped as Steve's arm pulled back on his neck and dragged him to the floor, while Two-Bit grabbed his legs. Soda pushed hard and twisted as he felt his air give way, he struggled a bit more. "Okay – uncle," he gasped. He sat up, panting hard, and winked at Two-Bit. "Two against one ain't fair. Still if that's the only way you can beat me-" He grinned infectiously at the older boy.

Two-Bit leaned back against the couch. "I'd pound you again – but it's not fair." He pointed to the tv. " 'Sides Mickey's on."

"So Dar got the electric back on, huh?" He stood up and caught sight of their old Ford pulling up outside the house. _Here we go._

He moved back into the kitchen to get some chocolate milk from the fridge, and heard his brother push open the screen door, hard.

"Is Soda back yet?"

"Hey Darry – sure is better when you get a bit of light round here." Two-Bit quipped.

Soda gulped down the milk straight from the carton, put it back in the fridge, and leant on the counter.

The door opened forcefully and his brother stomped in, dropped his lunch box on the counter and glared at his brother.

"What?" Soda shrugged.

"You wanna tell me why you didn't come home last night?"

"I did come home. I left the money on the counter for you."

"Yeah – this morning. I asked for that money last night Soda, so we could actually get a hot dinner, light, you know, kind of important things."

Soda shrugged his shoulders. "I'm sorry – I left it for you this morning." He grinned, "thought you'd be pleased."

Darry nodded. "Uh huh." He bit his lip. "It was more than normal."

Soda reached into the cupboard to take out the bread. "So, Hal gave us extra. I did extra hours."

His elder brother caught his eye and looked at him steadily for a minute. Soda held his gaze. "Okay, fine. It's good to have the extra."

He pulled a hand through his hair. _Damnit__ Soda, if you're getting into something and lying about it, I'll – well I don't know what I'll do but it sure won't be pretty._

"So where's Pony gotten to?"

Soda felt his brother's eyes watching him as he pulled the peanut butter out of the fridge. _It was so much easier to lie to dad.__ Not that easy was the wo__rd exactly. _Soda licked the peanut butter off his knife. _He was just, sort of, less challenging about it._

"The movies – I just dropped him off."

"So – the end of house arrest, huh?"

Darry watched as his brother messily sprinkled chocolate chips on the peanut butter and bread. "Yeah – but on a tight leash, I'm telling you."

Soda took a deep bite of his sandwich and remembered he hadn't eaten all day. He stopped in mid-chew when he felt his brother's cool green eyes boring into him.

He looked up. "What?" he asked, sounding as exasperated as he dared.

"Sit down – we need to talk."

_Great.__ You're not dad Dar._

He frowned, laid his sandwich on the counter and pulled up a seat, turning it so he could lean on the back and face his brother. Darry sat down opposite him.

"So," he said mischievously, "What d'you wanna talk about?" his dark eyes danced challengingly.

Darry frowned. _So how am I meant to do this again? Mom and dad barely managed it – '__cept__ that time Soda 'borrowed' dad'__s car when he was ten and took P__ony for a ride. Dad was terrified, __tanned__ Soda's backside so hard he forgot to cry._

"I wanna know where you were last night. And I wanna know now."

Soda groaned. "Come on Dar. I was out, was all. I'm sorry, okay. I'll call next time."

"Sure you will. So where were you?"

Soda shifted uncomfortably. "Out with Steve."

Darry leaned in closer. "Sodapop Patrick Curtis – don't mess with me."

Soda's heart sank. _Great, he's playing the name game. _That was always the sign mom was about to lose her less-than-perfect cool, and you'd better listen, and good.

He looked at him. "We went loads of places – you want me to draw you a map?"

His brother shook his head slowly and, when he spoke Soda heard his voice tense with anger. "No I don't want you to draw me a map. I'm sick of you coming home so late. You think I don't notice when you come back at all hours, huh? Stuff happens here late at night and I don't want you getting involved."

Soda shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Darry pointed a finger at his brother's chest. "You get caught up in that stuff and we'll have social services onto us like a shot." He pulled his hand down and sighed. "You're curfew's twelve, you hear? And that's an hour more than I had when I was sixteen. I want you to stick to it."

Soda nodded mutely and raised his hand in a mock salute, but his heart wasn't in it.

"And you ain't leaving this house tonight. Maybe a night in will concentrate your mind."

Soda looked up. "Darry no-"

His brother smiled grimly. "Wanna make it two?"

------ - -- - - - -- - - - - --- - - - - - -

Thanks for the reviews since the last chapter – the meaning of the slip of paper will be revealed imminently… ! Please R&R the good, the bad and the ugly - **Meda****w'asé**


	12. getting in too deep

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Outsiders, SE Hinton does**

Darry pulled the last nail from between his teeth, and secured it with a couple of sharp taps from his hammer. He rubbed his wet face with the back of his arm. It was now midweek and the cool rainy relief of the weekend long forgotten.

"That's the last one." He called down to Gerry, who was hauling the extra pieces of roofing back in the truck. They'd almost finished the roof- and only a day late despite the rain. He reached for the water bottle he kept hooked in his tool belt and took a long swig, looking down at the green stretches of lawn leading to the edge of the street.

_No one seems to have fences round here. _The corner of his mouth turned up and he shook his head slightly, smiling wryly. _Probably don't need 'um. There's about an acre of grass before you get to the house, and stray dogs and drunks probably aren't the same issue here as on the eastside. _

A dog barked excitedly below him running in circles over the perfect lawn and almost felling Gerry. The family was back – an overweight mom in a tight summer dress and floppy hat waddled to the front door while a skinny man sweating in a jacket stood over the truck of their Cadillac, heaving out suitcases and boxes to give to an equally skinny boy of about sixteen. The younger girl, dressed in a skirt and pale twin set, was running after the dog.

Darry felt a wave of uneasiness wash over him. _The most difficult thing they have to think about is whether to have a barbecue or to go out for dinner. _But it wasn't the money that was bothering him. It was a cold feeling that felled him sometimes if he didn't catch it before it snuck up, and he couldn't put it into words exactly, except that it was to do with the fact that, for a lot of things, the Curtis' already had it as good as it was gonna get.

Pete brushed off his jeans and disappeared into the house with their invoice. The roof was finished, it was midafternoon, and Pete had a date that evening. Darry turned the ignition of the truck with a smile. _If I'd been supervisor I'd have sent us off to check out supplies ready for the new job next day – not disbanded the crew at three o'clock like some summer camp counsellor – but then, it's not my job._

He started driving down the soc hill and wondered, guilty at the thought, whether he should stop by the DX and find out what the hell was going on with Soda. Part of him really didn't want to know, and the other part felt rotten about having the thought at all.

* * *

Soda hooked his thumbs in his jean pockets and slouched sideways over the swing. It was getting harder to find places to go during the day. Steve's dad was very much at home, and they'd had to chase a bunch of kids off the playset earlier to get some peace. 

Steve pulled out another cigarette and placed it between his lips.

"Give me one of those would you?"

Steve looked at him strangely.

"I'm bored, okay?"

"Well I wish you'd be bored some other way – you've smoked half the pack already."

Soda pulled the swing back so he made a pendulum motion with the swing, deliberately banging into Steve on the next swing over.

"So what? You're flush."

Steve grinned and tapped his top pocket. "That I am. Who'd have thought helping out Tim Shepherd for one little job could be so profitable?" He lit the weed and handed it over to his friend.

Soda frowned. "I don't know 'bout little job. Things got a bit hairy there for a minute."

Steve flicked ash at the ground then put his cigarette back up to his lips, inhaling deeply. He leaned his head back and tried to blow smoke rings at the sky.

Soda almost shivered remembering the night before last. Tim's "little job" had involved two cars in a warehouse far out past the food processing factory on the outskirts of town. They got through the first job real quickly – Tim wanted them to paint over front bumper scratches on an ancient Willys coupe from the 1930s. But the second task – to replace the brake line in a tuff green corvette – took forever. Steve skinned his knuckles trying to get to it, and every time a car passed on the road outside he was sure they were out looking for them.

"You think those cars were hot?"

Steve gave him a long look. "No, I'm guessing those Brumly boys just needed their cars fixing. In the middle of the night. In some weird warehouse so far out of town no one could hear it. Jeeze Soda what do you think?"

Soda shrugged and hugged his arms to his body. _I think I might be sick. _He lifted the cigarette to his lips and found it was already half burnt down.

Steve twisted his swing round to look at him. "You know Tim said there's always stuff around needs doin'- " his voice faded on the last words. "It sure would be a useful income."

* * *

Two-Bit leaned against the kiddie slide and took a long slug of the beer he'd swiped from his mom's fridge. It sure was hot. _Just the weather for __sittin__' in a park having a nice cool beer, _he thought half-contentedly. The other half of him was bored. To be honest he'd have preferred to be sitting in the Curtis' house watching cartoons but Pony was in such a bad mood that it had been ruining his buzz. Man, but did that kid hate being cooped up. He wasn't grounded anymore but he might as well have been since Darry said he didn't want him going anywhere on his own with a busted leg – he'd be a sitting duck for the socs. 

He opened his mouth wide, threw his head back and tipped the can so that a rush of frothy liquid chugged into his throat. He wanted to go shopping in a bit anyway, pick up some stuff for school using the old five finger discount, and if Darry heard he'd taken Pony off on something like that, he'd hit the roof.

He crushed the can between his fingers and stood up to feel in his jacket for another one, when he was distracted by the sound of low voices talking over by the swing.

"Hey!

"Well I'll be damned." He picked up his jacket from the side of the ladder leading up to the slide then strolled over to the swings. "Sylvia told me you two lost your jobs but I figured she was just mouthin' off."

* * *

Thanks for reading... updates a bit slow due to life intruding - damnit! Please R&R the great bits, the rotten bits, the bits where you think i've lost the plot, the bits where you're thinking, is there a plot??

Hmmm. Anyway, **Puorra bebe la!  
**


	13. fortune favours the poor?

DISCLAIMER: SE Hinton's everything - not mine.

* * *

Soda put his weight on his left elbow and watched as Angelique stood up from the bed, the angles of her skinny frame softened by the yellow glow of the lamp. She reached behind her neck and smoothed her fingers through her long dark hair, then shook her head slightly so it cascaded over her shoulders and down her chest. It was that hair that first hooked Soda, that day when she'd brought in the clapped out old Ford she called a car into the DX and asked what the noise could be. She was tall, smart and sassy. _So different from Sandy_he thought. _As though I even care._

She picked up the cheap silk dressing gown from the plain wooden chair by the chest and draped it over her shoulders, picked up a jar of cream, and perched on the edge of the bed.

Soda grinned at her. He reached out lazily with his other arm and pulled her down onto the bed with him. The trailer rocked slightly in that interesting way it had when you moved too quickly.

"Hey-"

"Relax a while, honey." He watched as she give in and relaxed against the bed for a moment, her arm reaching up to absent mindedly touch the hair at the nape of his neck, while he traced her breast bone with his fingertips.

She smiled at him and rolled her eyes. "You are such an impatient baby Sodapop curtis."

He shrugged. "I'm not a baby."

She laughed and pulled herself up into a half sitting position on the bed. "Believe me – you are. I don't see you for what? A week, ten days? And then you turn up at my door expecting everything to be the same."

Soda sighed and pulled himself up into a sitting position. His dancing dark eyes focused on her face. "And isn't it?"

The dark haired girl laughed and shook her head. She cupped his chin in the palm of her right hand, and Soda looked back into her light hazel eyes. _Your eyes are the colour of chocolate milk. _

"Oh, to be sixteen again. And with those dimples! You must break hearts."

He shifted on the bed, frowning slightly. "I'm not a kid."

She smiled and shook her head gently. "Soda. You know this isn't serious right? I don't like staying in one place too long. Besides you're a good kid."

Soda fell onto his back. "Don't say that."

She leaned over his face to kiss him and he saw something flicker through her eyes.

"Stay."

Soda glanced at the dark wooden clock on the trailer wall and cursed softly. _When did it get so late?_

He pulled himselfup quickly. "I can't."

She raised her eyebrows mildly. "Sodapop Curtis, you are such a scaredy cat."

* * *

The neighbourhood was quiet, aside from the barking of a couple of dogs, and some noise coming from Johnny's house. His parents never did sober up. Soda picked up his pace, enjoying the slight breeze he caught in the clammy night air. He liked walking at night, though it was better when Steve was there and they could horse around a bit. He rounded the corner to their block and saw the light reflected from their living room onto the small front yard. He groaned inwardly. _What am I __gonna__ say to Dar?__ Two-Bit better have kept his mouth shut._

He wasn't too good when Darry yelled. It was all very well him taking on the role of big Mr Guardian but Soda still remembered, clear as day, the times mom chewed him out – for coming home drunk from some varsity party, or twice, for ditching school. Soda grinned, remembering how he and Pony were sat at the kitchen table with their chocolate milk when Darry sloped in, putting his finger to his lips, as he tried to sneak back to their room - only to be intercepted by their mom.

_Oh well, here we go again. _Soda took a running jump over their fence, almost landing in the porch. He leaned up and peeked in the living room window, looked back to the street as if to clear his eyes, and did a double take.

Darry was lying on his back, a wide grin plastered over his face _laughing _with Two-Bit, two six packs, about half drunk, lying on the floor between them. _What the hell?_

Pony emerged from the bathroom with a big grin on his face. "Can I get a new jacket Darry?"

His eldest brother stood up and ruffled his hair. "You, little buddy, can get whatever you like."

Soda shook his head as though to get the fuzz out of his ears. _Are they on __drugs? _

Slowly he pulled open the screen door and stepped into the living room. "What's going on?"

Two-Bit looked up from his vantage point on the floor and grinned up at him. "The New Hampshire state lottery."

Soda looked at his brother, "Huh?"

Darry walked over to him, his arm still slung over Pony's shoulder. He grinned back happily, pulling out a slip of paper from the top pocket of his shirt. "You'll never believe it, little buddy," he took a deep breath, and grinned more widely. "But we won the sweepstakes."

Soda scratched his head, "huh?"

His older brother beamed back at him, flashing dimples Soda had half-forgotten about. _The New Hampshire lottery? Has he seriously lost the plot?_

Darry turned the slip of paper round so Soda could read the words on the front.

"How come we've got a sweepstakes ticket?"

Pony took an enormous leap across the living room on one clutch. "This old guy at the grocery store gave it to us. Cool huh?" His face became serious for a second and he looked up at Darry. "We'll find him and give him his share, right Dar?"

Darry turned to his youngest brother, amused. He leaned over to ruffle his hair. "Eh, sure Pony."

He turned back to Soda and shrugged. "So Two-Bit checked the numbers against the paper tonight, and what do you know? We matched 'um."

Soda felt a sense of excitement begin to build up in the pit of his stomach. It was hard to stay still. He reached out and pulled Darry and Pony into an enormous bear hug, and started jumping up and down.

"So, are we rich? Are we rich Darry? Are we like-" He paused and looked up at the ceiling, his voice softening for the final word, "_millionaires_? Or something?"

Darry laughed and shook his head. "Or something I reckon."

"Excellent. Can we get a Mustang? A yellow one? And a horse. Darry, can I get a horse?"

His brother laughed again and shook his head. "We'll see Pepsi. Let's wait until the money's in the bank first?"

Soda let out a small whoop and did a no-hands cartwheel across the living room, almost hitting Darry in the head, and narrowly avoiding Two-Bit, who was still sprawled on the floor.

Darry rolled his eyes, but his face was still smiling, "no gymnastics in the house Sodapop."

"I'm going to give up my job – and live a life of leisure. Let's have a party."

Two-Bit leaned up on his elbows and gave Soda a strange look. Darry shook his head. "Enough. We'll see. Let's wait until the money's in the bank first." He frowned, "and I mean it Sodapop – nothing rash. For now, we still need those jobs."

* * *

Thank you for all your helpful reviews - you may notice i've fiddled with this and the next chapter to try to make them make a little more sense... honest reviews always appreciated - let me know what you think... especially if you hate it! (...ducks)

**Hvala lijepa!**


	14. sugar daddy

**DISCLAIMER: SE Hinton's everything... not mine**

Darry took a sip of strong coffee and grimaced slightly. His head was throbbing. _I'm not used to drinking beer so much anymore. _

He leaned into the fridge and took out the eggs, set them on the counter and leaned over to pick up the remnants of the loaf he'd bought the other day. He felt his mouth turn up in a grin. _This is maybe __gonna__ be the last time we have to eat stale bread. _

He took another gulp of coffee and cracked the eggs into the hot oil, watching the whites bubble up yellow at the sides. It was going to be a busy day.

He leaned over the doorway and called into the living room, "Soda! Pony! C'mon breakfast's up."

His calls were met with silence. Darry grimaced. "Sodapop – c'mon!"

His brother appeared at the door, stripped to the waist and yawning, a moment later. Soda rubbed his eyes with his fists. "You're actually gonna _go _to work?"

"Sure I am – you too." He lifted up the frying pan and slid the eggs out onto waiting plates.

"No chocolate cake?"

Darry smiled, "I didn't see you at home to make any little buddy."

Soda yawned. "Eggs are good I guess." He opened the fridge to get out the grape jelly and some milk and sat down.

Darry sat down at the head of the table and spun one of the plates towards him. "Is Pony up?"

Soda shook his head, "he was tossing and turning all night."

Darry looked up sharply. "He have a nightmare?"

The younger boy shook his head, "nah. I think he just wasn't tired."

Darry took a big bite out of his egg sandwich. "Leave him then, I guess."

He felt his brother's dark eyes on him and looked up. "What?"

Soda grinned widely. "It's you. You've not stopped with the goofy grin all morning."

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"Darry, can we have this one?" Soda bounced into the driver's seat of a shiny new red Mustang, and put his hands on the wheel as though to steer it. "It's tuff."

His brother groaned as he watched Soda leap out of the car and bound across the gleaming white floor of the indoor car showroom to look at the inside of a yellow Corvette. Steve was two cars away calmly looking under the bonnet of a different new Mustang. Two-Bit was looking at a display at the front in a manner that was making Darry suspicious – and the sales staff nervous. Only Pony was lagging behind, leaning against the outside of the glass front door to smoke a cigarette. But then his younger brother never had been that much into cars.

"Can I help you sir?" The salesman with the skinny black tie pulled tight around the white collar of his shirt, had developed an edge to his voice.

_I don't blame him_, Darry thought, _In__ fact I don't think I'd actually let us through the door._

"Yeah – I'm, eh, looking for something new, maybe a Mustang, or, a – " Darry searched his brain for something a bit more responsible, "a Cadilac, maybe?"

The salesman couldn't have been more than twenty five and Darry knew he could pass for that to strangers. But now he looked him up and down openly. "Uh huh."

He looked at the man coldly. _It's not like the place is hopping for a Saturday morning._ "Yes." Just behind him Soda –now seated in the yellow corvette - was making loud engine revving sounds. _Great, I just love shopping with my brothers._

The seat of the Mustang was cold against his bare arms, and the smell of leather unfamiliar. He glanced in the rear view mirror and saw Soda and Steve emerge behind the car. He reached out to feel the steering wheel and an odd, cold feeling washed over him.

"Cool Dar – you gonna get a Mustang? This car is cool, man. Real tuff."

Darry smiled faintly and leaned his elbow out over the side of the driver's door. The empty feeling in his stomach stayed. He stood up abruptly and pulled open the door. "You know what? I'm gonna keep the truck, for now."

"Oh no!"

He smiled at Soda. "We don't need to do everything at once you know." He nodded briskly at the salesman. "How much for the yellow Corvette?"

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Darry was relieved to see Soda had stopped doing sequences of no handed cartwheels down the street and lagged back, after his older brother reminded him about the outcome of his last feat of public gymnastics.

They were heading for the Brown-Dunkin department store. Darry grinned. His jaw muscles felt sore from all the smiling he'd been doing lately, and his grin increased when he thought about the balance in his bank account. The lady at the lottery HQ had arranged for them to get an advance – on their terms - with the rest of the cash to arrive the following week. He watched as Pony – dressed in faded old jeans with the leg cut down the side to allow for the cast - loped ahead with Two-Bit. He felt like a sugar daddy. They deserved to be spoiled for a bit. _Hell, I do too._

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Soda and Steve had paused at the windows of a travel agents. "Oh yeah – Dar!" Soda called back up the street to where Darry was slowly following the others, with the same giant goofy grin he'd been flashing all the time lately. He waited for the older boy to catch them up, his excitement spreading through his legs so making it impossible to stand still. "Why don't we go to Hawaii Dar? I've always wanted to go to Hawaii. We can lay on the beach and sun ourselves and get the soccest of girls to come over-"

Darry laughed at his brother's dreamy face and kept walking. "Uh uh? And what about school? Pony starts back next week – and you have to go back to work some time."

Steve walked backwards to give Soda a wide eyed silent, "You didn't tell him?"

Soda shifted awkwardly. "Uh, about that Dar-"

His brother walked back and fell into pace beside Soda. "Soda f you want to quit your job, that's fine by me. But you better have something to go to first." He walked quietly for a moment. "Pepsi I was thinking. You know I spoke to the University of Tulsa and it looks like they'll have me. And with Pony back in school, maybe you should go back too."

Soda turned back and frowned at his elder brother. "No way." He let out a sudden whoop and did a quick no hands cartwheel accidentally-on-purpose kicking Steve on the way down. He ran without looking across the road, Steve in hot pursuit, and heard Darry call after him. "We'll have to talk about this eventually Soda."

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Thanks for all your help - due to helpful review have been fiddling with this and ch13 to try to make it less bitty... i was in a bit of a rush when put up last chap - as am now... life is encroaching!

Please R&R!

** Baie dankie!**


	15. no more status quo

DISCLAIMER: SE Hinton's brilliant and all my weak plot lines fall at her feet... and borrowing her characters to my own evil ends

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"What's wrong with our house? I like our house." Soda stretched his arms out over the back of the sofa and pulled himself up so his back arched. The furniture protested noisily. He glanced through the kitchen doorway. His brother was standing wearing their mom's pink flowery apron, trying to debone a chicken. He lowered his arms onto the sofa cushion, rested his head against it and pushed his legs up so they almost touched the ceiling,

"I'm not going to turn into some soc just because you want us to live in the sucky Westside."

Soda jumped as he felt a sharp whack on his backside. He looked up to see Darry's face grinning down at him. "You turning into a soc? No fear of that Soda." His brother hit him again.

"Ouch!"

"Well get down from the couch. It's not your own personal playset you know."

Soda rolled his eyes, then cursed as he landed heavily on the floor. He looked round at the living room, with the roughed up piano that no one but their mom could play, and the large dent in the wall beside the bookcase from the time when Soda was ten and he and Pony had been playing Cannonball Charlie. He smiled at the memory – Pony and Johnnie had joined forces and pushed him so hard with their feet that his shoe had gone straight through the plywood wall. Mom had _not _been happy.

He stood up and went to lean against the kitchen doorframe. "But I _like _our house, I _like _our neighbourhood." He looked down at the kitchen floor. " 'Sides, it's where mom and dad … you know …"

"Soda." He glanced up to see Darry looking at him solemnly. "D'you honestly think mom and dad would want us to stick around here just because it's where they used to live? Even though it's in a lousy neighbourhood?"

Darry put down the knife. His eyes moved past Soda to the front window of the livingroom. "Hell – mom hated this house. You remember how she used to worry when we went out? She'd be out of here in a shot."

He shook his head and pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead.

"It's not even all about that Soda. I worry too. I don't want to have to keep coming home every day and worrying which of you might have gotten into a fight – or been jumped.

"I'm tired of it. We've got to make something of ourselves Pepsi-Cola. We can't stay still forever. Mom and dad certainly wouldn't have wanted us to do that."

Soda was surprised to see Darry's eyes tear up. _But he never cries. _He suddenly felt like a spoilt child. _We owe him._

He shrugged and reached out to pull his brother into a rare hug. "Okay. You go ahead and buy your fancy-pants house. I'm not going to promise to learn to use proper cutlery or nothing though."

He grinned into Darry's hair and felt his brother's shoulders relax. They certainly owed him. But somehow Soda knew, their lives were about to change, and, whatever Darry said, maybe not for the better.

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Thanks for extremely helpful reviews - especially the tip about it being rushed and not making much sense! Have gone back over last couple of chapters and moved stuff around, and added a little, so please go back and have a read. This is very short chap I know, due to pressure of time, and also the fact it kind of stands alone i think.

As usual, good and brutally honest, blunt reviews welcomed.

**Kanopalammoolo!  
**


	16. is the grass greener on the soc side?

**DISCLAIMER: The Outsiders belongs to SE Hinton - I am respectfully borrowing...**

Pony pressed his nose to the side window of the truck. The street lights were on although it wasn't properly dark yet – the sky had started to darken to a deep navy above, but the edges were still paler blue. He held onto the door as Darry swung a left. His leg still throbbed if it got bumped.

Already the Westside looked different to their neighbourhood. For one the street lights weren't broken. And they illuminated empty roads with neatly parked cars. They hadn't passed a single pedestrian since they crossed the bridge. Lights softly glowed in the windows of the houses, and he noticed the houses seemed to be getting bigger the further they drove into soc territory.

Soda was bouncing around on the seat between him and Darry. Once he'd got over the idea of them leaving, not even Darry could calm him down. He'd drawn the line at letting Soda drive though. _"I'm not having mom's piano spilling out on the road because you can't calm down." _But he'd said it with that new spark of laughter in his eyes, and Soda had laughed back and punched him on the shoulder.

Pony pulled his brand new leather jacket tighter around his shoulders. _It sure is getting colder. _He glanced at his reflection in the side mirror. It was the most expensive birthday present he'd ever been given. After buying a bunch of books, he couldn't think of anything else he wanted, though Dar kept fussing at him like a mother hen. _I do look tuff though._ He wondered if anyone at school would notice. _Maybe __Cherry__ – _he felt a hot blush rise to his face. It was hard to admit stuff like that, even to himself.

"Hey dreamer. You gonna get out or what? We're here." He felt a rush of cool air as the door opened and Darry appeared beside him. He hadn't even noticed the truck stop.

His brother raised his arm to help him out the truck, but Pony shrugged it off, reaching behind the seat for his crutch.

He half jumped, half fell out of the cab and leaned against the door of the truck. He let out an involuntary gasp. "This is our new house?" he turned, wide eyed to look at Darry who was helping Soda pull the piano out of the back of the pickup.

His brother grinned at him. "Sure is."

Pony felt a grin slowly spread wide across his face. _Maybe we are rich now then. _

It was a big detached whitewashed house, with its own front lawn that went all the way up to the street. There were two large bay windows set either side of a double front door, painted white, then three double windows on the first floor, with more dormer windows set into the roof. _Huh. _He glanced up the street. Their's wasn't even the biggest.

He followed his brothers up the path to the front door. Soda was performing some elaborate dance – a bit tricky when carrying half a piano. They stopped outside the door and Darry fumbled with the key.

The front hall was huge. Cherry wood floors and a dark wooden staircase that swept up to the next floor. Pony stood open mouthed. _This is bigger than our living room. _He could feel Darry watching them both as they walked inside open-mouthed.

Soda pushed open a double-door to the left. "This is HUGE." He waved his hand across his mouth and sounded out an Indian-style whoop, before springing off in a triple no hands back flip across the sparsely furnished living room.

"Soda – no indoor gymnastics!" His brother stopped at the far wall and bowed to an invisible audience.

He winked at Darry. "Sure thing."

Pony heard his brother sigh heavily.

Pony leaned against the dormer window of his new room and looked down at the street below. You got a kind of side view of the street and a good view of the house next door from this window. There was another one looking over the back yard, but he liked the view of the street. _It sure is tuff to have a bedroom like this. _He grinned as he took in his new room. He'd put his new desk under the dormer so at least he'd have something to look at while he did his homework.

Unusually the house was something he and Darry agreed completely on. It felt great to get out of such a lousy neighbourhood to somewhere you didn't need to worry. _And __Darry__ said Steve and Two-Bit can stay whenever the like so it's not like we're abandoning them or anything._

He jumped as Elvis boomed suddenly and very loudly out of the bedroom next door. It had seemed weird to share a room with Soda now they had so many rooms to choose from, so when Darry suggested they try, Pony had put a brave face on it. It was nice to have an attic room at the top of the house where he could read and not be bothered, except by Soda playing Elvis next door. But still it felt kind of strangely quiet in this new neighbourhood.

Pony straightened his brand new pile of books on the shelf by the window. Not that he wanted to admit it, but that quietness made him feel kind of uneasy

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Thanks for the reviews – short chap again I know but trying to minimise seasickness due to POV changes... I have cheekily changed the time reference in chap 9 as the timing was out and the alternative would be to add another week to august in dr who fashion...

Blunt, honest, brutal, silent, helpful, hating – all reviews welcomed!

**Gui****lah****hui**** dui ****dui**** ma!**


	17. Bad day

**DISCLAIMER: The Outsiders are SE Hinton's not mine**

"Will you two get your asses in gear? You're gonna be late."

Pony made a face at his reflection in the steamed up glass of the mirror. There were some things that Darry just refused to relax on. He touched his face with the fingers of his right hand and scowled slightly as he felt smooth skin. At this rate he'd be graduating before he got to start shaving. His hair looked pretty good , darker now it was slicked back with a load of grease. He wondered if he actually was a greaser any more. _What makes you a greaser anyway? _He rubbed at his chin absent-mindedly for a moment. _Well I sure don't want to be counted as a soc – no matter what __Darry__ says.__ Maybe things will be different this year. _

"Sodapop! Ponyboy! I'm not your own personal driver – come on!"

Pony rolled his eyes at the mirror and flashed himself a grin. It was at least nice to start the school year in a new shirt and new jeans – not hand-me-downs from Darry and Soda, but actual store-bought stuff.

He opened the door and was almost knocked down by Soda leaping across the stairwell down to the ground floor. "Whoa!"

"Darry! Darry!" Soda's yell faded as he descended downstairs and then out the front door. Pony smiled and shook his head, following his brother, who was now whooping loudly outside.

"Is this for me? Is it? Is it for me?"

Pony walked to the open front door and grinned involuntarily at his brother, who was jumping up and down excitedly beside a brand new yellow corvette.

"Is it?" Soda leapt forward, almost knocking Darry off his feet, and gave him a giant hug.

Darry grinned back. "Well, you said you needed some way of getting to work. Call it an early birthday present."

Soda grinned wider. "No way. This is so tuff, man." He bounded to the driver's side and leapt into the car. Steve was already there – sitting in the passenger seat trying to act cool with this massive grin on his face.

Darry put a hand on the passenger window. "Just be careful, Pepsi, okay?"

Soda grinned, and Darry stepped back quickly as the smell of gas filled the air and the car made a loud revving sound.

"Sure thing." Soda called as the car shot forward. Steve stood up and threw up his hands, whooping loudly, as they picked up speed.

Darry rolled his eyes at the departing car, which had left a trail of fumes in its wake. Two houses down a man with a minister's collar on turned from opening his mail box to shake his head at Darry. Pony tried to hide his smile as he saw his eldest brother give him an embarrassed half nod in acknowledgement.

Pony laughed. "I thought you said Soda couldn't get a car?"

His brother reached out and patted his shoulder. "Well, sometimes you gotta live a little." He turned back to the house, shaking his head. "Maybe it would do Soda good if he could live a little _less._" He grinned back at Pony and reached into the hallway to pick up a bookbinder. "C'mon. I'll give you a ride."

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Pony put his head down and shoved through the crowd of socs at the front entrance. Four seniors he vaguely recognised – two blond, two dark haired – were deliberately blocking the doors inside the front entrance. _Where's Two-Bit when you need him anyway?_

"Hey greaser." He felt rough hands on his jacket, as the blond haired one in the middle leaned in close to his right ear. "Kill anyone lately?" he jerked away and shoved his crutch into the speaker's ankle, hard, as he pushed past the others into the hall.

He took a seat in the middle of English classroom. He had English first period, with Mr Syme again, which was kind of good. He pushed his legs out and his head down over his book. Cherry was in the same class, sitting up front with Marcia, but if she saw him she didn't acknowledge him. The class was filling up, while the teacher walked down the isle handing out forms.

"Ponyboy." Mr Syme paused at his desk and smiled. "Good to see you again." He glanced at his leg. "Been in the wars have you?"

Pony shrugged. "Something like that."

"Well let's see if we can't improve on that grade of yours this year." Pony felt his ears heat up. Mr Syme kept looking at him like he wanted to talk about that theme. _That's the last thing I want to think about_

_-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

It was lunch break before he spotted Two-Bit lolling on the bonnet of his ancient Ford.

"Hey kid. Long time no see."

Pony glanced quickly at the school building before lighting a cigarette. He squinted up at him. "Yeah, how come you ain't been over?"

Two-Bit tapped the bodywork with his hand. "Well, she's been more angry than usual Pone. Been trying to mend 'er." He grinned. "Think I've got it sussed though – for now." He reached down and plucked the cigarette from Pony's mouth, took a deep draw and handed it back. "I'm skipping out of here this afternoon though. They've got me down for double biology." He made a face. "You coming?"

_On the first day of school?__Darry__ really would kill me. _He shook his head, "Nah."

Two-Bit slid down the bonnet and grinned, "well I've got plans tonight, but I'll stop by the palace tomorrow. Tell Darry he better have some beer in."

Pony grinned.

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The lunch queue had shorted a little, along with the choice. Pony felt in the pocket of his new jacket. For once he had cash. He felt an elbow dig into his back. "Out of my way, grease."

_Not again._

He shoved back, hard, and the boy, who was about 16 with dark hair and mean grey eyes, elbowed him again, and lifted back his fist as if to hit him.

"Hey!"

Pony automatically turned back to the front at the sound of the teacher's voice. It was Mr Munn, his history teacher, stood by the cashier till, looking up with a frown from his tray of macaroni.

"Calm it down boys."

He felt warm breath on the back of his neck. "Scum." He felt a hand on his jacket and shook it off roughly, cursing in a low voice.

"Hey."

He turned to see a boy in a tan coloured bomber jacket with the sleeves tucked up, smiling at him in a lopsided way. He had a finely drawn face with small brown eyes and thin lips, and although he wore slacks and a madras shirt, his dark hair was worn longer than the socs usually kept theirs.

"You're pretty tough, you know?"

Pony scowled and bunched up his fist. "Well I've had just about enough of losers, but if you wanna start?"

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Thank you as usual for the helpful reviews - please feel free to pick holes and send me lots of criticism! The pace should speed up a little in the next couple of chapters - the last couple of chaps have been a little dull perhaps?

Anyway - please give me your brutal opinions!

My life has been hectic recently and have been updating a little tireder than usual - also I think the momentum changes when you get to the middle and it's maybe a little harder to keep your eye on the woods/trees...sky?! I've always had a problem getting to the end of stories... am hoping to reach the end in this case but it will be an achievement.

I'm finding the reviews both motivate me and keep me focussed on the story - so please continue with them, honest, harsh and brutal always welcomed.

**Shnorhakalutjun!**


	18. Don't need no edjookation

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Outsiders**

Pony scowled down at his feet. It wasn't turning out to be the best start to the year. Beside him the dark haired boy slunk down lower in his chair. He looked up cautiously. Mr Kirby – his hair neatly combed back, collar straight, tie knotted perfectly at the neck - had taken his seat behind the dark wood desk, and was watching them over his neat wire glasses.

"Ponyboy Curtis. I don't believe I've seen you in here before."

Pony shifted uncomfortably. "Hmm, no."

"And," the vice principal looked down at a slip of paper on his desk, "Caleb Johnson. Your first day?"

Pony glanced at the boy beside him curiously. He hadn't had much chance to figure him out in the space between calling him a loser and being punched in the face.

"Not a very good start." Mr Kirby paused. "You boys want to tell me what's going on here?" His voice was mild mannered, and clipped, without any trace of the drawl most people had in Tulsa. The clock behind the desk ticked slowly.

"Well?"

Pony scowled at the edge of the desk. He glanced at the boy beside him, who had drawn his arms up across his chest.

"I slipped?"

"I'm sorry?"

Pony looked down at his hands, "I slipped. The floor, was, er, slippy. Caleb tried to help me up."

Mr Kirby looked at him steadily for a moment. Pony held his gaze. Beside him, he heard Caleb exhale slowly.

The teacher stood up. "I don't believe you."

He leaned against the back wall of the office. "But, here's what I'm going to do. Since it's your first day Caleb, and since I haven't yet made your acquaintance Ponyboy, I'm going to cut you some slack."

Pony felt the corners of his mouth relax. _I can't believe that worked._

"I catch you boys in here again it will be a different story, understand?"

Pony stood up quickly before Mr Kirby could change his mind. "Yes sir."

Caleb echoed his words and followed him silently out into the corridor. He touched Pony on the shoulder. "Hey – I'm sorry, okay. I took that a bit too personally."

Pony shook off his hand. "Whatever. I didn't do it for you."

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Darry leaned down and opened the oven. The chicken looked almost done, only a little burnt around the edges, but since the middle had still been a bit raw he reckoned it needed to go in for longer. He leaned back against the counter and took a gulp of coke.

The house was almost unpacked. He'd been shopping again today so they could sit down at their new kitchen table with their new crockery looking out on to their new garden. It was nice. _Almost peaceful._ He thought, shaking his head at the sound of his brothers' whooping loudly outside in the back yard. Or rather Soda was whooping loudly, holding his right leg in one hand and chasing Pony round the garden. _I swear he's regressing._

He opened the back door. "You two – dinner!"

Soda fell into the kitchen, still on one leg, waving one crutch wildly in the air, laughing loudly. Pony followed more slowly, hopping up the steps of the back porch using a clutch for support.

"Soda, calm down." Darry looked at his brothers reproachfully. "You two were making some racket. I don't want all the neighbours to hate us immediately, you know."

"Oh, who cares, they're just soc neighbours anyway."

Darry frowned, "Soda –"

"I know, I know." He pulled out a second chair for Pony. "Here –"

Pony sank down on the chair by the door and laid his throbbing leg out on the second chair.

Darry looked at his brother with concern, "you should be careful with that leg Pony. You don't want to mess it up."

"I know, I know." Pony pulled his leg closer to the table.

Darry cupped his brother's chin in his hand. "What happened to your face?"

Pony stifled a groan.

Darry lowered his voice. "Ponyboy?" he asked questioningly.

His brother looked at him carefully. "I slipped?"

"Uh huh. Now the truth."

His brother glanced at the ground. "I got punched."

"Who the hell punched you Pony?" Soda's eyes flickered with anger.

Darry tilted his brother's head to the light more roughly than he intended. A dark circle was starting to appear over his left eye socket.

Pony shook himself out of Darry's grip. "It doesn't matter. It was nothing."

"The hell it was –" Darry stood up and crossed his arms over his chest. "Were you in a fight?"

Pony groaned. "No. Not exactly. Look it's fine – just trust me okay?"

Darry glanced at his brother appraisingly. _If he doesn't want to tell us__, I don't know how to make him. _"Okay." He said briefly, pulling out a chair. "But you better not start fighting Ponyboy."

He glanced down at his brother's leg to avoid hitting it with his chair. The bright letters from Soda's paint had faded and run slightly, and the white of the cast had turned a little grey, but the collection of signatures had grown. Darry heard his brother take an intake of breath. He frowned and leaned in closer.

"Pony – why has Curly signed your cast?"

He heard his little brother groan.

"Well?"

Pony shrugged. "I dunno. Lots of people have." He said casually, reaching for his coke.

Darry looked at him steadily. "Ponyboy – what did I tell you about Curly?"

His brother shrugged again, and sighed, "I haven't seen him for like a week Dar. But I'm gonna see him you know – we go to the same school after all."

"Ponyboy I thought I told you to stay away. He's trouble."

Pony frowned at the table.

"And what d'you mean a week? Did you see him when we were at the old house?"

His brother stayed silent.

"Well?"

"Uh Dar, how about cutting up the chicken? You go over to see the college people today?" Soda interjected hopefully from across the table.

"Pony?"

His brother reddened. Darry's lips tightened. "Ponyboy if I didn't make it plain before. I'm making it plain now. I don't want you hanging out with Curly Shepard – you hear?"

Pony glared at his plate.

Darry leaned over to cut up the chicken. "I mean it. You can stay in every weekend til you graduate for all I care, but I'm not having my brothers getting mixed up in that stuff. Curly's trouble." He aimed his index finger at his brother's chest. "Stay away – or I swear you'll live to regret it."

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Soda lay down flat on the basement floor, his legs and arms lolling on the dusty concrete.

"Sodapop if you don't start helping me, this is gonna take all night."

His brother groaned. "I've got stomach ache. We should eat out more Dar – you know you're not exactly the best cook."

Darry shook his head . "Just keep it up Soda – we'll see who'll end up cooking dinner _and_ clearing all these boxes."

"Yeah, yeah." Soda rolled round on his stomach and lifted the cardboard top of the box nearest him. "We don't even know what's in half of 'um." He pulled out a photo frame and grinned. "Oh Dar, we need to keep this."

Darry bent down beside him to look, and smiled. It was a picture of the five of them, taken the summer before last, on a picnic and fishing trip down by the lakes.

"You really look like dad."

"Do I?" Darry absentmindedly traced his finger over the photograph. All five of them were sitting on an upturned row boat, each holding a fish. Their dad had taken the smallest for himself and given each of them a scaled up version so their mom and Pony the biggest to hold. It was his idea of a joke. He was surprised that looking at the picture wasn't accompanied by the usual painful tight feeling in his chest, the prick of tears behind his eyes. _I wonder what they'd think of us now. __Living in a soc neighbourhood and everything.__ Huh._

Soda leaned down to dig further into the box and gave a squeal of excitement as he pulled out an old yellow furry bear.

"I thought Darry killed you!"

Darry grinned. "Nah, just deliberately kidnapped." He put down the picture and watched as his brother pulled out the old tin train he'd been given first, when he was five.

He took a deep breath. "Look Soda, I was thinking, this money you know. It's not going to last forever. Sure, it's enough to put us through school and keep us going for a few years perhaps, but not forever."

Soda rummaged further down into the box.

"You know, I was thinking, you should go back to school – it's what mom and dad would have wanted. It's what I want."

Soda looked up at him and frowned.

"Just think about it, okay?

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"And if I catch you smoking in the house again Ponyboy, you're losing the pack. Understand?" His brother closed the screen door hard behind him and went back into the house. Pony rolled his eyes and sat down on the back porch. Darry had been in a foul mood ever since he emerged from the basement. He'd only lit up in his room because it was such a long way down with a cast on. _Since when did he get so __house__ proud anyways?_

He lit a cigarette and leaned back against the swing to watch the sun set. _It's more peaceful on the west side, but the sunset looks the same. _He watched a strong orange oval settle into the distance as the light started to dim.

"Hey." A dark head appeared over the fence.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Pony said, frowning as he sat up. "If you're gonna start-"

The boy shrugged and smiled disarmingly. "Look, can I bum a cigarette? They're not so easy to get round my house." He jerked his head back to the house behind him.

Pony limped down the steps to the fence and shook the pack out at him. "Help yourself."

Caleb leaned over the fence to light his cigarette with Pony's and took a deep drag. He looked at the house with interest. "You live here with your brothers?"

Pony ignored the question. "You live next door?"

He nodded. "So how you like it here – better than the east side?"

Pony frowned. "Seems like nothing's private round here."

Caleb grinned. "You're kidding, right? Bunch of boys moving in from the eastside? 'Course everyone knows." He took another drag. "Look man, I'm not complaining. I figure this place could use some shaking up, you know? So is it true your brother robbed a bank?"

"Huh?" Pony's head shot up. "What?"

"Just kidding. So why are you here? How come you moved I mean?"

Pony shrugged. Darry said it was nobody's business where they got their money, and he wasn't about to trust some soc with the news.

"Look. " Caleb grinned at him. "Maybe we didn't get to the best start. I'm sorry okay?" he put his hand across his chest. "Mea culpa."

Pony smiled back reluctantly. "Okay. Quits."

The back screen door swung behind him. "Ponyboy, you got homework."

Pony rolled his eyes at Caleb. _Some things never change._

"So can we start again?" Caleb held out his hand.

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Back to a longer chapter - let me know if pov changes induce sea sickness or sick of reading-ness... or whatever blunt, honest, brutal comments you want to make...

As ever I extend my thanks to my reviewers - especially those prepared to stick their neck out and be extra blunt!

**Betam amesegënallô!**


	19. new boy

**DISCLAIMER: SE Hinton owns the Outsiders, I just borrow her characters to keep me company sometimes...**

Darry shut the door quietly behind him and set off in a gentle run down their path to the road. There was a snap in the still morning air that suggested fall was imminent. He turned left and picked up his pace as the road dipped slightly downwards, nodding a "good morning" to a tall blond haired boy of about 16 walking a blond Labrador.

It felt good to move his body in an athletic way again. He'd woken ten minutes before his alarm to bright sunlight streaming through the thin pale cream curtains of his bedroom. He felt more awake these days, almost more like his old self, which was why he hadn't stormed downstairs when he heard Soda come back home at four that morning.

_I'll have to talk to him about that, _he thought, turning randomly into a street that led towards the bridge.

He felt half inclined to let it be. It wasn't like they were living in a rough neighbourhood anymore, and Soda was old enough to take care of himself, besides his brother had worked hard enough over the last year. He frowned as he wondered whether he would go back to school. _Probably not.__ But he can't drift forever._

There were a few cars on the main road down by the bridge, mostly business-looking types getting a head start on the day. Darry pounded the ground harder with his feet and wondered what his own day would bring.

It was weird being uprooted so suddenly to the other side of town. It had been more than a fortnight now and he still felt a thrill when he opened their front door, or went shopping for stuff they could buy immediately. It was disorientating too not to have a job. It was the first time in five years that he'd not had to hold down a job of some sort, so while Ponyboy had school and Soda had work, he'd been feeling a little aimless.

Yesterday he'd stopped by the grocery store for some milk, and a couple of things for a big chocolate cake, when Linda Collins quite literally bumped into him. She'd been reading the back of a packet of cake mix, while walking up the isle when she'd stumbled into his cart. She'd blushed and looked up to apologise, her perfectly groomed blond curls bouncing upwards, and recognised him.

_"__Darre__l Curtis? It's never you." _She'd grinned up at him and then stopped in confusion as she tried to figure out how to ask him where he lived without being rude.

He'd saved her the trouble. _"Hey, good to see you Linda.__ You live round here? We just moved."_

_"Oh." _She smiled and two dimples formed on her pale cheeks, and suddenly Darry couldn't think of anything else to say. "_What are you up to these days?"_

Darry had shrugged, _"This and that." __This and that?__Like he was some kind of freeloader with nothing else to do._

She shrugged and left shortly after - before he got a chance to ask her where she lived, that he wasn't doing nothing exactly, he did have _plans, _and that he'd love it if she'd go out to a movie with him or something, for old time's sake.

He turned and ran faster back the way he came. _Yeah, real smooth Dar._

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

There were four students standing behind the counter of the administration office, but they seemed to be doing a better job that Darry of getting the attention of one of the pool of regal secretaries sitting in the office.

He leaned over the counter. "Excuse me. Excuse me – ma'am?"

A woman in horn rimmed glasses with grey hair piled high on top of her hair in a big bun secured with a long brown clasp, looked at him suspiciously.

He suddenly felt much younger than 20.

"I'm, er, new. What do I-"

"Give me your enrolment letter." She took the letter and scanned it, handing him a form. "Fill this in. You're late. Student enrolment was last week."

Darry pulled the form towards him, wiped his hand on his jacket and started to fill in the blanks.

"You'll need to see your advisor. Room 302." She said briskly, handing him a map.

There was no answer at room 302. Darry knocked twice and stood awkwardly in the wood panelled ground floor hallway wondering if he was missing any classes. He turned to leave when a man in his early thirties, wearing a brown corduroy suit turned into the corridor from outside.

"You waiting for me?" He squinted at Darry and held out his hand. "Sorry, didn't recognise you for a moment. Good to see you Darrel. Glad you made it. Ray Brown – remember me from the interview?" Darry nodded and wiped his hand on his jacket again before shaking it. "Mind if we walk and talk?" The man turned back out towards the front door of the administration building.

The quadrangle was busy with students. Darry felt awkward and not quite himself in his beige slacks and jacket. Ray picked up his pace and started to walk diagonally across the quad towards a two storey light brick building.

"We were very impressed with you at interview, you know. It's not every day we accept students this late in the enrolment process, but we figured, the exception that proves the rule –" he tailed off and glanced at Darry. "I hope you're ready to work though. It may be difficult starting again after so long a break."

"I'll manage." Darry said, more gruffly than he meant to.

"It's engineering isn't it?"

"That or business administration – I haven't decided yet."

Ray nodded. "Well there's time yet. You'll get a good grounding in both before you have to decide. Oh, and English, maths, a humanities subject. You'll need to finalise your timetable with administration. " They reached the entrance to the building. Darry glanced at the board and groaned inwardly when he saw it was the English department. _Great._Ray turned round.

"Excellent. Well I'm around if you need me. If I'm not leave a note on the door." He smiled. "Good luck Darrel." He paused on the step, looking at the handsome broad-shouldered man in front of him. "And loosen up."

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"Sodapop - you wanna tell me what these are?" Darry came through the door of the den at the back of the house to see his brother and Steve lolling on the sofa in front of the TV.

His brother looked up at the bundle of papers and shrugged.

"I stopped by the house to pick up our mail and found these." He leaned over the couch and waved the papers at his brother. "Speeding tickets."

Soda shrugged and grinned at his brother sheepishly. "So I got caught speeding a couple of times." He leaned forward and launched an unexpected attack on Steve, wrestling him roughly to the ground.

"Soda? SODA!"

His brother looked up from the floor where he'd pinned his best friend against the coffee table.

"What?"

Darry sighed. "I'm not itching to spend all our money on speeding tickets you know. Maybe we'll have to take another look at your car if this is what you're gonna do with it."

Soda elbowed Steve's arm out of the way. "Dar, it's just a couple."

Darry pulled Soda to the ground by his upper arm. "A couple too many, Soda." He glanced at the top one curiously. "And the timings are odd as well – what were you doing in Broken Arrow at half past two in the afternoon?"

Soda took the tickets out of his brother's hand and shoved them in his back pocket. "Chill Dar, they'll just have made a mistake, got the timings wrong." He smiled disarmingly. "I'll pay 'um. "

"That's not the point Soda, I don't want you driving so fast everywhere - you know why."

Soda shrugged. "I know," he said and was quiet for a moment. "Dar, you know how it's my birthday next week?"

Darry grinned back. "Uh huh. Like you'd let us forget it."

"Why don't we have a big party- like a housewarming party or something – and a birthday party."

His brother rolled his eyes. "You choose your moments Soda."

"Well?"

"Well," he gave his brother a half smile. "I'll think about it."

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Thanks for all your continuing support through the reviews, which I'll say again, I find extremely helpful. It's great to get people's reactions to what's happened in the chapter, and whether they think it's worked or not.

Critical, uncensored, blunt and honest reviews welcomed!

**Tai merbani!  
**(Balochi, Pakistan)


	20. nightmares and food fights

**DISCLAIMER: This is based on SE Hinton's, The Outsiders... i'm just borrowing**

Ponyboy sat up suddenly, his eyes wildly roaming round the strange shapes lurking in the darkness of his bedroom. There was a deep thumping in his chest and he was panting hard. Beads of sweat were stinging his eyes. His palms were sweaty and he could feel himself shaking involuntarily.

_Oh shit, I don't like this._

His eyes roamed round his bedroom, desperately looking for something to focus on. They settled on the deep dormer window. He hadn't closed the curtain last night and he could make out some lighter specs of stars. He forced himself to focus on the window and took a deep breath.

_Calm down, it's just a dream – just __a nightmare not real. It wasn't real._

He shuddered. _Don't cry. Focus.__ It's not real._

The shaking wouldn't stop, so stood up and felt the deep woollen rug under his feet and then the coldness of the polished floorboards. He pushed open his door and darted into the hallway, pushing open his brother's door. "Soda?"

He squinted at the bed in the corner, the covers bunched up at the bottom just as they had been this morning. Soda wasn't home, again.

Leaning out the window to take a deep drag of his second cigarette with all his bedroom lights on, he began to feel slightly better. The shaking had changed to shivering and his heart had stopped pounding, leaving him feeling suddenly tearful.

_Don't think about it. It wasn't real. It's not real._

_----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Darry was sitting at the table, a college schedule propped up against the coffee pot. He glanced up as Pony walked in.

"Hurry up – you're late. Is Soda up yet?"

Pony shrugged, sitting down and pulling the chocolate cake towards him. "Dunno."

Darry glanced at him more intently. "You look tired. Sleep alright?"

Pony took a big bite of cake. "Yeah."

His brother frowned. "You sure?"

Pony sighed. "Yes Darry. I'm just a little tired is all."

His brother nodded. "You need to turn off that light before midnight when I tell you, you hear?"

Pony rolled his eyes.

"You need a ride?"

"Nah." Pony grinned, picking up a hunk of chocolate cake and . "Me and Caleb are going to hitch a ride with Soda."

Darry frowned and glanced at his watch but Pony had already left the room.

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The yellow corvette screeched to a halt outside the high school. "How's that for quick?" Soda grinned over at Pony as he pulled back the front seat to let Caleb out.

Pony grinned. "It'll do." He glanced at the high school, empty except for a couple of stray greasers standing behind a tree.

They watched as the yellow car shot forward, cut into the left lane and turned left with another screech of tires.

Caleb groaned. "I had history first period.

"Double gym."

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Darry stifled a yawn. _Pay attention, _he told himself sternly. _It's only your first class. _The lecture theatre was about three quarters full and he'd taken a seat half way up, hoping it provided the right balance of being near enough to see, without being near enough to be seen, and called on.

It was the introductory English class. English had never been one of his best subjects and it was hard to stay focussed when all the woman seemed to be harping on about was how romantic people used to think nature was a century ago. _Maybe Pony would get a kick out of this, _he thought proudly. He'd probably understand more than one in every three words too. Not that Darry intended on failing, he'd just get the books that set it to you straight and work from those, get the class ticked off his list.

His eyes wondered down the hall. A knot of girls were sitting in the first two rows, taking lots of notes, nodding heads following the lecturer. The prettiest was sat at the end of the second row, noticeably not taking notes, slumped in her chair with a lazy grace, long blond hair tied up in a ponytail she kept twirling round her right index finger.

_She's probably nineteen years old with a charge account and nothing to think about but party dresses and where she'll spend winter break. _But she was pretty.

-------

It was raining hard when Darry emerged from the sports building, frowning. _What's he mean I missed tryouts? Of course I missed tryouts. I was too busy concentrating on feeding my family and keeping a roof above our heads, the electricity on. _He smiled ruefully at the last bit despite himself. It was a pain though. The coach had been adamant – no football this semester. He kicked at a stray stone in the path and jumped as he almost walked straight into a girl hurrying ahead of him on the pathway.

"Oh, sorry." He said, realising the stone had hit her leg. She was bending down and rubbing it vigorously, her blond hair becoming sodden in the rain. "I'm sorry." He repeated awkwardly, taking off his jacket. "You're getting soaked. Here take this."

She looked up at him with eyes the colour of cornflowers, her mouth frowning. "Oh – you're in my English class."

Surprised, Darry nodded, "yes. Sorry about the stone, wasn't looking."

She stood up. "That's okay." He felt her glance roam over him. She smiled. "It's okay, really. Some people – they have, er, interesting pick up tactics."

He frowned. "I'm not –"

She smiled, "I know." She glanced back at him, waving her refusal of his jacket. "The cute ones never do."

She walked further up the path, and Darry felt himself running to catch up with her. "At least I could –I mean, d'you want to grab some lunch, or something?"

She looked at the gold watch on her wrist and shook her head, smiling. "Sorry, I've got to go."

"Well then, look d'you,er, want to come to a party?"

She turned, looked at him steadily for a second and then laughed. "Why not?"

_So Soda, looks like you get your wish after all._

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Pony felt the elbow holding his head up slip off the desk. He jerked up and moved so he was more strategically positioned to look out the classroom window. He stifled a yawn and stole a glance at the big clock above the blackboard. _Seven__ minutes to go._

It was raining heavily outside, fat drops of water streaked down the window pane- some of them seeping through the bottom of the frames on to the inside window ledge. He started to draw lazy circles on the front of his exercise book. Math wasn't his favourite subject, but surely even the math genius' were stupefied by Mr Jackson's even, unchanging drone.

The day had started bad and was getting worse. Mr Fipp – _a former captain in the US Army I'll have you know!_ - didn't think turning up late to gym was acceptable, even with a broken leg. Pony half expected him to make him take his cast off and prove it, while he stood there going on about punctuality in front of the whole frigging gym class. So picking up trash would have been a welcome departure, if it hadn't been for the rain, which started soon after he got outside. And he could have lived with that even – as Two-Bit said what are trash cans for but to fill up those stupid sacks?– if Mr Fipp hadn't been sneaking round by the garbage bay and caught him having a crafty cigarette.

So now he had detention and a yellow slip for Darry to sign. _Maybe I could get Soda to have a go – he got pretty good at it while he was still in school. _But no, Darry always found out. Eventually.

-- - - - - - --

"Hey you." Caleb appeared behind him in the queue. "Howzit?"

Pony frowned and picked up a tray from the pile by the stack of plates. "Don't ask."

"That good huh?" he picked up a tray from beside the pile, examined a sticky mess on the edge with his fingers, made a face, put it down and picked up another. "I asked Jenny Harkin to the school dance. You know that one who always wears those floaty coloured skirts?" he grinned. "And tight jumpers?"

Pony shook his head. Caleb knew a baffling number of people. "Anyway she says no, "

Pony grinned, this was more familiar territory for his friend.

"Because she says she reckons I'm some kind of _wannabe greaser._I mean, what is that? A _wannabe greaser?_I'm myself and me, I told her." He pulled a hand through his dark hair. Pony noticed he had been wearing grease in it lately. "She said to stop bothering her. Moi?"

He grinned and lifted his tray up onto the ledge by the lunch counter.

Pony looked at the meatloaf with suspicion. Caleb wouldn't consider it an option, but then again he didn't have to get through the dinners slash-n'burn Darry, or hit and miss Soda came up with. He decided against and moved his tray down the line.

"Hey, watch it!"

Pony's tray flew off the the lunch counter ledge as he felt himself being shoved out the way. He looked up to see a blond haired senior, sneering at him.

"Mind your place in the queue - grease."

"Oh yeah?" Pony squared up to the taller boy. _I'm sick of this._

He could feel the lunchroom quieten as people started to pick up on the tension. The older boy glanced round, before turned back to the counter. "We'll get you." He pushed in front of Caleb.

As he leaned in to pick up a bowl of jello, Caleb opened the top of his light beige jacket and poured down a bowl of beans.

There was a pause as the lunch queue stilled, waiting for a reaction.

_Oh shit._

Caleb's laughing eyes met Pony's. _Not the best move._

"What the-" the senior reached down his back and looked uncomprehendingly at the mass of red stickiness on his fingers.

Pony felt suddenly dizzy as the back of his head hit the floor, hard. He threw a couple of wild punches, before seeing that Caleb was on the senior's back, trying to pin him to the floor.

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"I'm confused." Mr Kirby was prowling the area behind his desk like a caged tiger. His voice was dangerously low. "Did I or did I not make it abundantly plain I didn't expect to see you two back in here?"

Pony tried to subtly shift his weight around his right leg. To his left Caleb had adopted a careless attitude, his chin jutting defiantly upwards. Pony realised, too late, this was a situation he was more than familiar with.

"And in almost identical circumstances!" Pony jumped as the vice-principal's hand slammed down, hard on the desk. His voice was controlled, but louder. "Except this time you add in a food fight for variety. What do you have to say for yourselves?"

The bell for sixth period buzzed in the distance and Pony heard the hallway outside start to fill up. Pony felt his face harden into a mask of defiance. _It's not us who should be explaining ourselves, _he thought angrily.

"Well?"

"Well, have you finished, or are you just pausing for breath?"

Pony held his breath and wondered if this is what people meant when they said they could hear a pin drop. Mr Kirby's face would have been funny if it wasn't so real, so four feet away from them. He was looking at Caleb incredulously. His wire glasses had slipped slightly further down his nose.

He groaned inwardly. _Yip, __Darry's__gonna__ kill me._

Mr Kirby looked down and shook his head slowly at the desk. When he looked up his voice was cold. "Fine Mr Johnson. We'll play it your way. You can both wait outside while I call your fathers."

---------------

Pony sank into one of the hard wooden chairs outside the office, leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. _This is just perfect._

Caleb sat down beside him. "I, er, didn't think he'd take it so hard."

Pony sighed and opened his eyes. "Well he did - again. What is it with you anyway? You can't stand still without getting into a fight or shooting your mouth off."

His friend shrugged sheepishly. "I'm told I've got 'authority issues'."

"No shit Sherlock." Pony leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes again. This wasn't turning into a good day.

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Please R & R the good, the bad and the ugly. Really appreciate the input - great to help build up the story.

**Abuimgang!**

(Eton, spoken in Cameroon)


	21. wanna hair cut, greaser?

**DISCLAIMER: The Outsiders belongs to SE Hinton, I'm just borrowing her characters and bending them out of shape for my own amusement..**

Pony could tell Darry was in a bad mood by the set of his shoulders. His face was hard, his lips unmoving, but he held his arms stiffly to his body. The younger boy felt himself slip further down his seat. _Here we go._

Darry glanced at the chair where Pony had spent the last couple of hours in bored tension. Caleb's dad had turned up a half hour after that phone call. He heard _that _conversation very clearly, even though the vice-principal's door was firmly closed.

Darry leaned over the counter to speak to the office secretary, glanced at his brother and then walked slowly over to where he was sitting. Pony's eyes immediately dropped to the ground.

Darry leaned down so his face was close to Pony's. His voice was low and fierce. "You are in so much trouble right now. Is there anything I should know before I go in there?" he jerked his thumb at the office.

Pony shrugged. "I didn't do it?"

Darry gave him a look and stood up.

_Well, you did ask._

Mr Kirby opened the door and gestured to Darry to follow. "Stay there Ponyboy."

Pony sighed and shifted about on his seat. It had been a long afternoon. Caleb's dad was a surprise. He came across so few fathers these days he forgot people had them, except his own of course.

Mr Johnson was quite short, his hair mid-brown and thinning. He arrived tight lipped, dressed in a sharp suit, and glared at Pony while he waited for his son to untangle himself from the seat and stand up.

When they came out of the office, Pony heard him say in a low tone, "we're gonna have a long talk when we get home son." Caleb had followed him with the same smirk he'd been wearing in Mr Kirby's office.

Weirdly it made Pony feel homesick, seeing Caleb's dad walk out the office, one arm heavy on his shoulder. His dad had never been called to take him home, though it had happened with Soda, plenty of times. His face relaxed slightly as he remembered Soda and his dad coming back after such an excursion, because a prank involving some jello and the girls' locker room had gone wrong. He was about ten, and sitting on the couch when they came back, both, laughing at something Soda said, only to be met with his mom's angry face. Their dad was the easy option. _Not __Darry__ though._

His elder brother came out of the office and appeared at his side. "Come on." He folded his arms across his chest and waited for Pony to stand up.

"Aren't we going in?"

Darry shook his head. "I've heard enough," he said gruffly.

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Pony paused at the double doors to their lounge and grinned. All the cushions from the sofas and armchairs had been pulled off and dragged into the centre of the floor to create a makeshift ring. Soda was sitting on top of Steve to one side of it, his head pushed up at an awkward angle by Steve's palm, his own foot resting on his best friend's neck.

"Call uncle," Soda said, his face turning beet red with exertion.

"No way. " Steve said through gritted teeth. "You're mine."

"Holler it or I'll cut off your-"

"What the hell's going on?" Darry strode angrily into the room. "What is this, huh?"

Soda immediately released Steve and looked up at his brother, "er, wrestling?"

Darry shook his head at the ground. "Fix it. Now. And then you can start fixing dinner since you've got so much darned energy." He turned to Pony. "Dining room, now."

Soda looked at his brother questioningly. "What's going on?"

"That's what I'm about to find out." Darry said gruffly.

Soda shot Pony a sympathetic look. "Why don't we leave it til after dinner?"

Darry frowned. "Pony – you heard. The other room – now."

-----------------------

"So, you've been to the office before, huh, Pony?" Darry's opening gambit was coldly down to earth. "Ever going to mention that?"

Pony was sitting at the head of the formal polished oak table they'd got but never eaten at. He shrugged.

"For fighting I understand."

Pony felt himself sink further down into the chair. _Just tell me how long I'm grounded for and leave it be._

"That was a bit of a surprise." Darry said mildly. "Two fights in a fortnight for someone with a cast on their leg."

Pony shrugged, "I didn't go looking for them."

"Funny that." Darry leaned back against the dresser. "Mr Kirby says you've developed quite an attitude lately. Along with your friend Caleb."

Pony rolled his eyes at the ceiling and drew his arms across his chest. _Trust __Darry__ to take the school's side._

Darry shook his head slowly. Pony could hear the tension in his brother's voice. "So, correct me if I'm wrong but Mr Kirby reckons you two basically jumped another boy in the cafeteria – after pouring food down him."

"He started it." Pony said defensively.

"But you finished it."

Pony smirked. "I guess so."

"Ponyboy! This is not a laughing matter." Pony flinched as his brother's voice grew louder. "First you practically get arrested for getting mixed up with Curly and now, less than a month later, this! Mom and dad did not bring you up to be some kind of no-good hood!"

Pony's face hardened. _That's a low shot._

"You know that Caleb's been suspended?"

Pony's head shot up.

"Yes, til next week. You got a day."

_Shit._

"And let me tell you, if dad had been here and you'd spoken to a teacher the way Caleb did, you wouldn't have been able to sit down for a week."

"Well it's just as well I didn't and he's not, isn't it?"

Darry shut his eyes for a second and Pony wondered if he'd gone too far.

"You need an attitude adjustment kiddo." His brother straightened up and went to the door. "Your ass better be soldered to that seat when I get back. Don't you dare move."

Pony stuck his tongue out at Darry's back. _Great.__ He's treating this like some kind of capital crime. I get jumped in the cafeteria – twice – and it's __all my__ fault. _

He frowned at the hazy reflection of his head in the table. _But I__ can't believe I got suspended. Talk about overreaction. _He smiled wryly, _actually Dar's taken that bit quite well._

Darry had closed the door when he left and it was eerily quiet in the dining room. It unnerved him a bit, how you couldn't hear each other in this house. He glanced at old carriage clock on the dresser.

He was figuring this was his brother's new soc-style punishment - _death by boredom_when Darry appeared carrying a basin of water and a towel.

_Great.__Housework._

"Come here." His brother said tersely.

Pony looked at the basin warily. "Why?"

"Just do it kiddo."

_I'm not a kid._

"Now."

Pony reluctantly stood up and eased into the chair his brother had indicated.

"I'm not having my brother turn into some hood." Pony felt the towel go over his shoulders. _What the-_

"I'm cutting your hair."

Pony swung round, but Darry had pinned his shoulders with his hands. "You're not cutting my hair!"

He heard the click of scissors opening behind his left ear.

"You've got to be kidding me." He struggled against his brother's hands.

"I'm perfectly serious." Darry's voice was dead calm. "I'm not having you getting kicked out of school because you look like some hood."

"Soda!" Pony yelled at the door.

"Pony, calm down, you're going to get cut if you keep moving."

Soda appeared at the door, out of breath. "What's going on?"

"Will you tell him to stop?"

"Dar – what are you doing?"

Pony could already see chunks of hair falling onto his lap.

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Please R& R the blunt and the critical, the good and the bad, etc etc etc.

**Nse!**

(Bambara, Mali)


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